


Travelling Light

by Hot_elf



Series: Dragon Age - series 10 (all the AUs: Megan/Nate/Carver) [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Epic Friendship, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Modern Thedas, gap year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>18-year-old Megan Cousland is out on her own with nothing but her backpack and an open mind, eager to explore Ferelden and to make new experiences. When she bonds with a fellow traveller over their shared love of leather jackets, she has no idea that she's just made a friend for life.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically a sequel to "It's Complicated", but I think it works quite well on its own.

"Wanna come exploring?" Megan shot a hopeful glance at her roommate.

The snooty-looking brunette with the killer eyeshadow had introduced herself as Morrigan when they'd first met earlier today. Y _eah, sure, that's what your parents called you, right?_ Megan didn't believe _that_ for a moment. Either way, Morrigan didn't even deign to reply to her question. Instead, she yawned and curled up on her narrow bed with a hefty volume titled _Witches and Warrior Women – Female Empowerment in the Dark Ages_. Fully engrossed in her book, she ignored Megan completely.

Well, maybe she had a point. Lothering was not much to write home about. The youth hostel was old and dingy, the town itself boring and provincial. As a matter of fact, Megan wouldn't have chosen to hang around longer than she had to, but there were no trains south for the next two days, so for the time being, she was stuck.

And yet, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If there was one thing her road-trip around Ferelden had taught her in the past four weeks, it was that the really interesting things tended to happen at unexpected times and in weird places. Which was why she set out on her own, ready for anything life might throw at her.

Half an hour later, Megan's enthusiasm had dampened considerably. The shops along the main street were the usual assortment to be found in any small town across Ferelden: the cinema had long since closed down, and the roadside cafés were full of old ladies shovelling down cake with single-minded focus and harassed-looking young mothers with screaming toddlers in tow.

Spotting a group of teenagers in what passed for fashionable clothing out here, she decided to follow them, and that turned out to be the right call. They led her down a narrow lane to a square filled with booths and the sound of excited haggling. _A jumble sale_! She didn't actually need more clothes, since she preferred to travel light, but she loved poking around the stalls for a good bargain. Besides, with autumn about to begin, it might be a good idea to look for a warmer jacket… With a happy sigh, she dove in.

She knew she had to have it the moment she set eyes on it. Soft, brown leather, well-worn and supple, a teensy bit too big for her, but that would only make it more comfy. Going up on tiptoes, she was about to disentangle it from the surrounding jackets when she felt an answering pull from the other side of the clothes rack.

"Hey, that's mine!" She pulled harder, determined not to let go of her catch.

"Not yet, I think." The voice from behind the rack was deep and mellifluous, the words laced with a strong accent she couldn't immediately place. And the glimpse she caught of the stranger's hand and arm showed bare, golden-brown skin, with an intriguing pattern of tattoos snaking around his wrist. _Definitely a guy._ Maybe she could appeal to his chivalrous nature.

"Oh, please." She let a note of helpless pleading sneak into her voice. "I really need something warm to wear. And this is perfect."

"It certainly is." He let go of the jacket, but before she could grab it and run, he had already slipped through a gap in the racks and was blocking her way.

He wasn't much taller than her, but he looked fit and strong, his chest well-muscled under the thin t-shirt he wore. Not much older than her either, in his early twenties maybe. And yes, he had golden skin, smooth and lovely. Golden-brown eyes, too, which made for an exotic contrast with his long, blond hair. And he had another tattoo on his face, two flowing lines all the way down from his temple to his left cheek. His full lips were drawn up in a smile just this side of provocative, and he had crossed his arms in a gesture that managed to look both confident and graceful.

"So… What shall we do about this little conflict of interest?" He looked her over from head to toe with undisguised appreciation. "I'm Zevran. And you…"

"Megan." She blushed a little under his intense scrutiny. "Look, I know it's a lot to ask, but I've really fallen in love with this jacket. I've got to have it."

Zevran raised an eyebrow at her choice of words, his lip twitching briefly, but he didn't reply.

"Please. I'll buy you a beer, if you want to." She gave him her best puppy-eyed look. "Pretty please."

He made a face. "Eugh. No beer, thank you. But I'll settle for a soda and a nice chat, if it's all the same to you."

Zevran waited patiently while she paid for the jacket, smiling indulgently at her happy expression. It was a friendly smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, and Megan felt a tinge of apprehension. He was a stranger, after all, and a damnably attractive one at that. What if he thought this had all been just a plot to get his attention? What if he thought she was _hitting_ on him? She racked her brain for a way to clarify things while they wandered over to a street café and got their drinks.

When they'd settled down in the shade of a tree, he took a deep, grateful draught and leaned back, regarding her through thick, blond lashes. "You're not from around here."

"No, I'm travelling." She fiddled with a loose thread on her jeans. "I wanted to see more of the world before uni, have some interesting experiences, go exploring, you know?"

"On your own?" There was just the tiniest hint of concern in his tone, and more than a little curiosity.

Megan sighed. She _was_ beginning to get sick of this particular question. "Yes. Why not?"

"No offense." He raised both palms in apology. "I'm just surprised. With a girl as pretty as you are, I'd have expected a boyfriend lurking around the corner. Or a girlfriend," he added with a cheeky grin.

 _Ah, here we go._ Megan took a moment to answer. She didn't want to sound bitchy, but she really didn't want him to get the wrong idea. He seemed nice, but the last thing she needed right now was more heartbreak.

"There was a boyfriend." Two actually, but he didn't need to know _that_. "It's over, though, and it was… complicated."

"And you don't want that kind of complication right now." Zevran smiled at her stunned face. "Hey, it's fine. I don't mind. Plenty of other fish in the sea, as you say here in Ferelden."

"Where are you from?" She cursed herself for sounding so blunt, but he didn't seem to mind.

"Antiva." There was a hint of wistfulness in the way he said the word.

"Really?" Megan's interest was caught. "You must miss the warm weather then. Is it really as beautiful as they all say? I want to go there so badly." Next year, perhaps, if she could come up with the money…

Zevran laughed softly. "It is very beautiful, yes. And much warmer and drier than your Ferelden." He finished his drink with a wink at her. "You really ought to have let me keep the jacket, you know."

"Not a chance." Megan shook her head. "But I might help you find another one. What do you say?"

He got to his feet with a laugh, taking her hand to help her up. His grip was firm and his skin dry and warm. "Deal. Are you staying at the hostel, too?"

"Yup." Megan felt a wave of sheer joy bubble up inside her.

She was _so_ glad to have met him.

* * *

Zevran happily inhaled the scent of his new leather jacket. It wasn't quite as perfect as Megan's, but it felt good, nicely worn in without being scruffy. It looked good on him, too, judging from the looks he got from the local girls as they made their way back to the hostel.

After their shopping trip, they had found a tiny Rivaini restaurant down by the river and had stuffed themselves on cheap but delicious seafood stew. He hoped they wouldn't end up with food poisoning, but then again, it would almost be worth it. The house wine had been decent, too, and the desserts divine. It had almost been a taste of home.

Besides, he enjoyed hanging out with Megan. She was a bit young, maybe, fresh out of school from what she'd told him. _Just about legal_. But since she wasn't interested in more than friendship anyway, her age hardly mattered. On the contrary, she might actually be safer in his company. He wondered why her parents had allowed her to travel on her own. But then, on second thought, she probably wasn't the type to ask for their permission.

"Where are you headed next?" Megan interrupted his thoughts, flashing him a quick, mischievous smile. "East or west? Denerim or Redcliffe?"

"Neither." He shook his head. "I was thinking of going to Gwaren, actually. I have a friend there whom I haven't seen in a long time. And you?"

"Ostagar. There's a music festival there, starting next weekend, and it sounds like fun. I'm going to take the train the day after tomorrow." Megan made a vague gesture in the direction of the train station. "Morrigan is going there, too. My roommate," she added by way of explanation.

"A music festival…" Zevran made a big show of considering her words, but to be honest he was already sold on the idea. "Is she pretty?" His exaggerated leering face drew a laugh from Megan.

"Who, Morrigan?" He wasn't sure whether she sounded amused or worried. "I guess so, yes. A bit prickly, though."

"Hmm." Again, he pretended to hesitate. "It's a bit out of my way, but I'm not really in a hurry. I could come with you for a few days, I guess."

"Oh yes, please do." Megan sounded excited. "It's going to be much more fun with you there. You can tell me some more stories about Antiva. And maybe teach me how to play Wicked Grace."

Zevran made a non-committal noise, but secretly he was flattered. It was nice to be appreciated for his conversational skills for a change. And he enjoyed talking to Megan, too. She was funny and clever, and she looked at the world with a refreshing lack of prejudice, eager to make up her own mind.

"Well, you have time enough to decide." She shrugged, but he wasn't fooled. She'd be disappointed if he said no.

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. When they entered the hostel, the reception area was quiet and empty, filled with the characteristic stale smell of backpackers' gear in need of a laundromat.

Megan hesitated at the foot of the stairs, but then she turned and breathed a quick kiss on his cheek. "Night, Zevran. This was fun."

"It certainly was." He hugged her briefly, then watched her skip up the stairs. She _was_ cute.

With a sigh, he turned toward the reception desk. He had a vague notion of inquiring about the nightlife, but changed his mind when his eyes fell on the young man who had appeared behind the desk. He'd been greeted by a middle-aged lady earlier today, and the change was definitely an improvement in his book.

The new receptionist was pale and looked a little tired, but he had beautiful blue-grey eyes and fine black hair that just begged to be tousled. And he was really rocking that unshaved look. Instinctively, Zevran stood up a little straighter, tilting his head to show off his tattoo.

"Hey." The guy smiled tentatively at him. "I'm Jowan. Anything you need?"

 _Oh, you have no idea._ Putting on his most winning smile, Zevran headed for the desk. "As a matter of fact, yes. You see, I was wondering…"

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Zevran just barely suppressed an exasperated sigh at the sight of Jowan and Lily, who were making out behind the reception desk as if they weren't in full view of anyone coming down the stairs. The young man had turned out to be depressingly straight. And even worse – since Zevran loved a challenge and might have tried his luck anyway – he was madly and helplessly in love with the curvy redhead working the late shift in the kitchen.

Jowan had been perfectly friendly when Zevran had approached him the night before, but within minutes, the conversation had been all about Lily's lovely smile, Lily's gorgeous eyes, Lily's perfect body, and most importantly, the way to Lily's fickle heart. And, to his horror, Zevran had found himself in the role of advisor, doing his best to encourage Jowan to pluck up his courage and confess his feelings to her. _Because I am such an authority in matters of the heart, apparently._

Zevran shook his head. It was hard not to feel bitter, considering his less than stellar record at successful relationships. Still, the two of them _were_ cute together. And he had at least managed to sneak some kisses last night, under the pretence of 'helping Jowan improve his technique'. It seemed to have worked, too, judging from the way Lily was writhing in his arms.

"Want me to fill in for you for an hour or so?" Zevran leaned on the desk, grinning in satisfaction when the two of them jumped apart as if he'd zapped them with a stun gun. "I'm referring to your reception duties, of course," he added with a wink. "I wouldn't want to interfere with anything else."

"Zevran!" Jowan was blushing quite fetchingly. "No, I… That won't be…"

Lily regarded him through narrowed eyes. "A friend of yours?" She sounded confused, and more than a little suspicious.

"Sort of." Zevran was sorely tempted to mix things up a bit, but relented when he saw the panic in Jowan's eyes. "No, not really. I just wanted to let Jowan know I'll be checking out tomorrow, in time for the Ostagar train."

"Right. I'll make a note of it." Jowan swallowed nervously. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Zevran favoured him with a last radiant smile as he slipped out through the door. "It's been my pleasure."

* * *

The next morning, it took him a few minutes to find Megan after boarding the train. He hadn't told her about his decision to come along to Ostagar, and he had arrived at the last minute, too late to spot her on the platform. Still, it wasn't as if he could miss her. Zevran made his way through the aisles of the crowded carriages, stepping carefully over backpacks and their dozing owners, keeping an eye out for her mop of red-golden hair.

But even before he saw her, he heard her voice, cool and clear. "Take a hint, will you? This seat is taken, I said."

A tall, broad-shouldered young man with reddish-brown hair and a well-trimmed beard was coming toward him, muttering curses and shoving him roughly aside. The guy was followed by two others who were regarding him with a mixture of awe and apprehension.

"Just ignore the little bitch, Vaughan." One of them cautiously extended a hand to pat him on the shoulder, only to be shaken off with a glare. "Sooner or later someone will teach her better manners."

Vaughan muttered something unintelligible and walked on. His friends tagged along, glancing nervously at him. All three of them ignored Zevran completely.

He found Megan sitting at a small table for four, together with Morrigan and a tall, muscular guy with an impassive face. Her backpack was on the empty seat next to her, but when she saw him coming, she lifted it off with a welcoming smile.

"Zev! Here you are! Honestly, I don't think I could have defended your seat much longer."

"Ah, I don't know." He glanced back over his shoulder at Vaughan's retreating back. "It seems to me you were doing a pretty good job."

"That jerk." Megan's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Ever so charming and full of compliments, until I told him I wasn't interested and he could shove it. Then he got obnoxious."

Zevran felt the hair on his neck rise. "Did he bother you?"

"Nah. Not with Sten here looking all menacing and quietly murderous." Megan flashed a playful smile at the young man in the opposite seat. Sten didn't return her smile, just nodded silently. He _did_ have an ominous look about him.

Megan didn't seem fazed by it, though, chatting happily on. "Besides, it was easy enough to get rid of that idiot. I simply threatened to tell every single girl at the festival about that nasty rash he has if he wouldn't leave me alone."

Zevran felt his lips twitch in a smile. "And how would you know that he's suffering from that kind of ailment, _cara_?"

"I didn't." Megan shrugged. "Just a lucky guess. He kept scratching his balls while we were waiting for the train."

"Eugh." Zevran dropped into his seat with a sigh, stretching voluptuously. "Well, then. Wicked Grace, anyone?"

* * *

Megan loved the game. The rules had been easy enough to learn, and Maker, it was so much fun! Both Diamondback and Wicked Grace had been strictly forbidden in her parents' house, since her mother disapproved of any game that involved wagering money, even if it was only small sums. Or pumpkin seeds, like today. Zevran had brought a large bag, and had carefully counted out fifteen seeds for each of them.

Morrigan had raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow, but she'd joined the game eagerly enough, and even Sten had almost smiled once or twice. Megan wondered what his story was. She remembered seeing him at the hostel, and she didn't mind that Morrigan had brought him along. He was quiet and polite, and he'd been a big help with the heavy backpacks. But she wondered why he'd joined them. Somehow she had a hard time imagining him at the festival, rocking out to the music.

But that was neither here nor there. Now, she was really getting the hang of the game, and she could have gone on playing for hours. It was a pity that Zevran seemed to be getting restless.

"What's the matter, Zev?" Megan took care not to sound petulant when he yawned for the fourth time, fiddling with a strand of his silky long hair. "Bored already?"

"A bit." He smiled perfunctorily at her, but the real focus of his attention was on Morrigan who was facing him, long legs gracefully crossed to display a shapely ankle. "You know, this would be much more fun if we wagered our clothes."

"Yeah, well. Not on a crowded train." Morrigan sounded dry as dust. "Actually, scratch that. Not ever." She gave him her patented smoky-eyed glare. "No use getting your hopes up."

Of course, Zevran wasn't the slightest bit deterred. "Aw, don't look at me like that, sweet Morrigan. I bet you'd be even lovelier if you smiled, just once."

"Even lovelier, eh?" Morrigan snorted. "I'll smile when I'm in the mood for it, and not to please _you_. And your transparent flattery doesn't do it for me, I'm afraid. You can save yourself the trouble."

Zevran shrugged. "It's no trouble at all. And it's not flattery, but the truth. Surely you know you're beautiful. Such a gorgeous body, such flawless skin, and you have the most amazing eyes I've ever seen. Can you blame me for noticing?" His words were accompanied by graceful gestures, and the heated look in his eyes alone would have made most girls swoon.

But Morrigan clearly wasn't most girls. "Not for noticing, maybe, but for going on about it as if your opinion mattered. Look, maybe this works on other girls, but not on me. Really not." She got to her feet with another contemptuous huff. "Come on, Sten. Let's see if we can find some coffee."

Sten got up without a word and set off along the aisle, his massive presence making people scramble out of his way without the need to ask. Morrigan followed him without a glance back at them.

Megan laughed softly. "Awww, Zev. That didn't go so well, did it?"

Part of her applauded Morrigan's show of independence. Megan couldn't have put it into words quite so succinctly, but it was true that it bothered her, too, this casual assumption that every man had the right to judge a girl's appearance, that she had to be pretty and charming all the time, just to please the men around her.

But on the other hand Megan was honest enough to admit that she herself would probably have fallen for it, if Zevran had used his charm on her instead. He could be irresistible if he wanted to be. The way he'd looked at Morrigan, as if all he desired in the world was her, as if he would do anything in his power to make her his… _Yup. Irresistible_.

Either way, Zevran's cockiness deserved the occasional damper. He would get over it soon enough.

Megan elbowed him lightly in the ribs. "Morrigan is a tough cookie. You'll have to do better if you want to persuade _her_."

But to her surprise, Zevran shook his head. "Ah, no, _cara_. This is where you are wrong. You see…" He leaned back in his seat, idly reaching for a pumpkin seed to nibble on. "That is not what I want at all."

Megan raised a sceptical eyebrow at him. "It's not?"

"No." He flashed her a quick smile, but immediately grew serious again. "You see, I'm not interested in sleeping with anyone, man or woman, if I have to _persuade_ them." His moue of disgust was almost comical. "What I want is for them to want _me_ , to desire me. And if they do… _When_ they do…" This time there was more than a hint of the predator in his smile. "Then I'll gladly let them have what they want. But until then…" He shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of pure nonchalance. "I can wait."

"But, why?" The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

His eyebrows shot up. "Why do I want willing and eager partners? The sex is much better, for one thing."

"No, I meant-" Megan felt her cheeks heat up. "Why so many? I mean, we've only just met, what, three days ago? And I'm beginning to lose count already. It seems like you're constantly trying to get into somebody's pants."

"Ah, but now you exaggerate a bit, no? I don't sleep with everyone I flirt with, not by a long stretch." Zevran shook his head decisively. He didn't seem offended, though. "But yes, I like sex, _cara_. Done right, it's the best feeling in the world. And I'm not hurting anyone with what I do. Why shouldn't I enjoy myself, hmm?"

Megan swallowed, unsure of what to reply. _The best feeling in the world_. He had that bit right, as far as she was concerned. The mere memory of how she'd felt in Nate's arms made her tingle all over. Still…

But before she could come up with a suitable answer, Zevran was already getting to his feet in a lithe, fluid motion. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be back in time for our departure."

Stunned, she watched him make his way to the back of the carriage. A pretty girl with honey-blonde hair and freckles smiled at him as he joined her at her table. They chatted for a while, and it wasn't long before Megan saw him take her hand and run his thumb over her palm, his expression earnest and intense. The girl gasped in response, looking at him as if she wanted to roll over right there and offer herself to him. _I don't believe it_.

Megan had never met anyone like Zevran, and she wasn't sure what to make of him. But there was no denying she was intrigued. She _really_ ought to persuade him to stick around a little longer.


	3. Chapter 3

The festival was awesome. Completely and utterly awesome. Even less than two hours into it, Megan was certain that she was going to love every single minute of it.

Ostagar was a heritage site, known as one of the best-preserved Tevinter ruins in southern Thedas. But more importantly, it was hauntingly beautiful, with the evening sun painting the ruined arches in glorious shades of orange, and the ancient Tower of Ishal looming over them like a watchful guardian. The acoustics probably were a nightmare, but no musician could ask for a more atmospheric setting.

The band up on the centre stage right now was from Orzammar, way back in the Frostback Mountains. Three guys, all of them cute, if rather stocky, who went by the name _Fool's Gold_. They played their guitars and drums with more enthusiasm than skill, but the crowd loved them and happily cheered for encores.

Megan would have preferred to be in the thick of things, right in front of the stage, but Sten and Morrigan had categorically refused to go there. So they'd made themselves comfortable further back, in a relatively quiet space, where they had room enough to spread their blankets and stretch out on the ground. She had to admit the music was still plenty loud enough back here.

Next to them, a trio of students from Denerim were enjoying the last rays of sun, sharing a bottle of beer and a bag of small cookies between them. One of them noticed her looking and smiled at her, raising the bag in a friendly invitation. "Want some?"

He was cute in a pixie-ish sort of way, Megan thought. Not particularly tall, slim and lanky, his hair dark red and his skin pale. He had a charming smile, too, and nice eyes. Sten was eyeing the cookies longingly.

"Depends." Megan reached over for the bag, taking it from the guy's hands. His fingers brushed against hers in passing. "What are those?"

"Spicy cookies." He grinned cheerily. "With _very_ special spices. My name's Soris, by the way."

"I'm Megan. But what exactly-"

Next to her, Zevran, who had been half asleep in the sun, sat up abruptly to give Soris a stern look. "What kind of spices?" His tone was not unfriendly, but firm.

Soris shrugged, unfazed. "Cinnamon, nutmeg, and a hint of deep mushroom powder. Nothing dangerous or illegal. Just enough to make you relax and have a good time."

Zevran's eyes narrowed. "Let me try some first, _cara_."

Megan handed him the bag. She found his protectiveness rather endearing, even if she was secretly convinced that she could look after herself perfectly well. Then again, she really didn't have much experience with drugs, even with the more harmless ones.

Zevran took a cookie from the bag and carefully nibbled on it, a deep frown between his brows. It disappeared quickly enough, though. "They're good." He flashed a sudden grin at Soris, then extended his smile to the two girls behind him.

They giggled happily, obviously thrilled with Zevran's attention. The shorter one nudged Soris in the ribs. "Well, coz? Won't you introduce us to your new friends?"

"You can do that yourself, can't you? Or have you become shy all of a sudden?" Soris punched her lightly back. "This is my cousin Shianni. And this is Nesiara."

The family resemblance was unmistakable. Shianni was a redhead, too, with a cute little nose and clear, intelligent eyes. Zevran's gaze was firmly fixed on her friend, though, and Megan couldn't blame him. Nesiara was a stunner. Tall, blonde, with beautiful green eyes and fine features. Her legs, displayed to best advantage in a pair of really short shorts, seemed to go on forever, and her shapely shoulders were left temptingly bare by a tight tank top.

"I'm Zevran." Zev's voice had taken on the deep, seductive purr Megan had begun to recognize. "Nice to meet you."

The girls giggled again. Megan rolled her eyes and reached for a cookie. They tasted… funny. Much like the ones her mother used to make for Satinalia, but with a faint aftertaste that reminded her of dusty attics and old clothes. Quickly, she chewed and swallowed, passing the bag on to Sten who eagerly dug in. Morrigan refused with a graceful shrug.

"So…" Soris patted the ground next to him invitingly. "How do you like the music, Megan?"

She hesitated only for a moment before moving over. The cookies had left her with a weird buzzing feeling, as if her skin was suddenly doubly sensitive. She had expected wooziness, like being drunk, but this was different. Soris' eyes seemed somehow greener than they had been before, and he smelled nice, too, like grass and wind and trees. Zevran smiled knowingly at her and moved to the side to make room for the two girls who joined him on his blanket.

It was getting dark, and a teensy bit chilly, and Megan saw no reason to object when Soris put an arm around her shoulder to keep her warm. The stage was bathed in light, and a new band had appeared there after _Fool's Gold_ had been sent off with a roar of applause. The new arrivals were led by a lithe, tall guy with olive skin and a shock of silvery-white hair. His voice was deep and warm and melodious, and it sent pleasant shivers down Megan's spine, even though she couldn't understand a word of what he was singing.

"Who are they?" She leaned back into Soris' embrace to whisper her question in his ear.

"They call themselves _The Magic of Minrathous_." Soris' lips brushed lightly against her cheek. "From Tevinter. Their singer is quite a celebrity there, I think."

"Mmmhmm. I can see why." Megan stretched her neck to catch another glimpse of him.

Soris laughed softly, but he didn't reply, just pulled her a little closer. She didn't mind. He felt nice and warm against her side, and his touch was gentle. No pressure there.

"Have another cookie." He fished one out of the bag and offered it to her, his pupils widening when she nibbled at it and her tongue flicked against his fingertips.

The second cookie heightened her senses even further. Even the slightest touch of Soris' hands sent sparks all along her skin, and the low, soft rumble of the singer's voice in the background was a caress in itself. Somewhere at the edge of her hearing, Megan could make out a soft moan that sounded like Nesiara, followed by Shianni's characteristic giggle. Zevran and the girls had moved their blanket further back into the shadow of a ruined archway, and it was too dark to see what they were doing, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. _Well, good for him_.

Soris was nuzzling her neck, reciting some lines from a love poem, or maybe those were song lyrics? Megan didn't actually care.

As far as she was concerned, it was a perfect moment.

* * *

Zevran was really pleased with how the evening had turned out. The cookies were good stuff, not too strong, but enough to send him into a pleasant haze, the music had improved vastly in the past half hour, and the two willing girls in his arms were an unexpected bonus.

Nesiara's firm, high breasts felt amazing when he let his hands wander under her top, her nipples perking up against his palms as soon as he touched them. Slowly, he pushed the fabric aside so he could take one of them between his lips, savouring the happy noise she made in response.

Meanwhile, Shianni's small hand had wormed its way into his jeans, her clever fingers wrapping around his throbbing cock, and he simply couldn't stop himself from thrusting into her grip. It was paradise, so much soft skin, their delicious scent strong enough to be almost overwhelming.

For a moment, he wondered what Megan was up to, and whether she'd be okay, but then all thought was driven away by Nesiara's sighs of pleasure, by Shianni's hot lips on his stomach, and he-

A flashlight shone right into his eyes, making him cry out in sudden pain and shock. Behind the torch, he could just about make up the silhouettes of three men, swaying on their feet and smelling of beer.

"Well, look what we've got here, Jon. Didn't you say you had a thing for redheads?" Zevran recognized Vaughan's voice right away, though the man's speech was more than just a little slurred. "How about this one? Surely our friend here will be glad to have some help."

"You got that right, Vaughan." The other man's laugh was unpleasantly loud and braying. "Foreign punk like him can't handle a proper Fereldan girl, let alone two. What they need is a _real_ man, eh, Braden?"

Zevran cursed under his breath, his right hand going to his hip in an instinctive move, reaching for the knife he no longer carried. _Pity_. _It would have come in handy right now._

Vaughan didn't answer, but he had already grabbed Shianni's arm, trying to pull her back. Zevran did his best to kick at his ankles to bring him down. But it was difficult to move as quickly as he would have liked, with his pants still undone and stars burning behind his eyelids, not to mention the slight unsteadiness caused by the cookies.

Shianni opened her mouth to scream for help, but Vaughan clapped his big, beefy hand over her mouth, effectively silencing her. Braden, the third man, somehow managed to take hold of Zevran's arm, twisting it sharply behind his back. Nesiara seemed frozen in place, her eyes wide with fear. _Shit_. Zevran's mind was racing, but he was quickly running out of options.

Just then, Vaughan yelped like a dog, cursing violently as he let go of Shianni to clutch the back of his arm. A nasty bruise was already forming where Megan had pinched him hard. From the corner of his eye, Zevran saw her red-gold head disappear into the shadows again. Shianni immediately took advantage of her freedom to kick Vaughan hard in the shin with her steel-capped boot.

And then everything happened very fast, almost too fast for Zevran to follow. Jon howled in pain when Morrigan's high heel sank deep into the arch of his left foot. At the same time, Braden gave a muffled cry and released his grip on his arm as a large fist slammed into his jaw. _Sten_. Zevran could have kissed the man, though he probably wouldn't have appreciated it.

Still, this wasn't over, and if Vaughan and his cronies-

"What is going on here?" Another torch, but this time it was aimed at the faces of their attackers who visibly flinched in the bright light. The man wielding it was clad in a uniform, and his voice carried a quiet authority. "Sergeant Kylon, of the Ostagar Mounted Police. I'd like to have a word with you gentlemen." Behind him, two other policemen were visible in the shadows, their presence more reassuring than Zevran liked to admit.

Realizing he was in trouble, Vaughan signalled for his friends to back down.

"Thanks for coming so quickly." Morrigan nodded coolly at the sergeant. "We appreciate the help."

"Yes. And thank _you_ for keeping a cool head and making that call." Megan was breathing hard, but her eyes were gleaming excitedly. "Is everyone okay?"

Much later, they huddled together on their blanket, sharing a pot of tea. The policemen had taken their statements and led the three troublemakers off to the station, with Jon still limping badly, and Braden rubbing his jaw with a pained expression.

Soris and the girls had set off toward the campsite right afterwards, looking pale and shaken. Zevran couldn't blame them. The dreamy mood of the night was all but gone, and the pleasant buzz of the cookies had been replaced by a stale aftertaste – literally and figuratively.

Next to him, Megan was sipping her tea in silence, her face pale and serious. When Zevran took her hand, she smiled at him and squeezed his fingers briefly.

"Are you okay?" He felt a twinge of guilt. Megan was still so young, and she trusted him implicitly. He should have had things better under control.

"Sure." Her smile widened. "Why wouldn't I be? I wasn't actually in danger, was I?"

"Maybe not, but…" He took a deep sip himself, doing his best to appear calm. "You know, it's really not safe for you to travel alone. Maybe I should stick around for a little longer?"

This time, Megan actually laughed out loud. "Honestly, Zevran? I like having you around, I really do, but _you_ were the one who needed saving just now, not me."

Zevran flinched. He really didn't need to be reminded of that. "Still-"

Before Megan could say another word, Sten raised a hand to speak. This was such an uncharacteristic behaviour that they all fell silent immediately. "Doesn't matter who's saving who." He sounded gruff. "There's safety in numbers."

"He's right, you know," Morrigan chimed in. "Even if he is a bit melodramatic. We'll all be safer together. And didn't you say you wanted to go to the Brecilian Nature Reserve next, Megan? That's on my list, too."

"Suits me fine." Zevran shrugged. He had heard interesting stories about the old forest and was eager to explore it for himself. Besides, he really didn't have anywhere else to be right now. His friend in Gwaren would wait.

As if pulled by invisible strings, they all turned to face Megan. Zevran smiled to himself when he realized they were all waiting for her to decide. _She's definitely the heart of our little company. Even though we've only just met._

Megan seemed unperturbed by the weight of their expectant looks. "Sure. Let's travel together." Her smile was dazzlingly bright. "I can't wait to see what adventures we'll have."

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The campsite in the Brecilian Forest was one of the nicest places Megan had seen in her travels so far. There was little undergrowth in the ancient forest, and people had put up their tents all over the place, in the open spaces between the old trees. Tall oaks surrounded a central meeting place, their branches forming a perfect canopy overhead. The ground was covered with a colourful carpet made from fallen leaves, and a big fire had been built right in the middle. Everyone gathered around it at night to sing and chat and just enjoy each other's company.

Even Zevran seemed less restless than usual. Normally, at this point in the evening, he'd likely have disappeared into the darkness with a willing partner. After three weeks in his company, Megan was quite familiar with the process. A quick flirt, a few suggestive looks and well-placed touches – that was usually all it took. And even if it didn't, Zevran tended to be undaunted by rejection. He would just try his luck elsewhere, or adapt his strategy. It was quite interesting to watch, actually, and Megan had secretly been taking mental notes for a while. Not that she was _looking_ for an affair, but if she could pick up some tricks from an expert…

Tonight, he seemed quite content to stay and listen to the guitar player, a tall, pale girl who'd introduced herself as Marjolaine. She was well worth listening to, Megan conceded, even if the Orlesian chansons that made up most of her repertory were a bit tacky. But it was nice to sit here and enjoy the unseasonable warmth of the autumn night, taking the occasional sip from the bottle of wine she and Zevran were sharing. She had grabbed one of the last free seats, on a fallen log, and he was sitting at her feet, leaning against her legs and humming along with the music.

It was perfect and relaxing – until a large, wet drop hit her bare shoulder, quickly followed by a second one.

"Oh, damn it!" Megan got to her feet in a flash, gazing up at the sky. She hadn't even noticed the upcoming rain clouds.

"What is it?" Zevran just about managed to catch himself and avoid toppling gracelessly to the ground.

"My tent." Megan added a few more colourful invectives. "I haven't put it up yet," she called back over her shoulder, already well on her way to her chosen spot. If she hurried-

But when she arrived at the site, it was already too late. The rain was coming down in thick sheets, almost blinding her, and it was all she could do to gather up her things and head for the shelter of the trees.

"Megan!" Zevran's warm hand encircled her wrist, pulling her in the opposite direction. "Come on. My tent is up. We can share."

Moments later, they were out of the rain, kneeling on the tent floor, and Zevran was lighting a small lamp, cursing under his breath when he saw the small puddle forming under her. "You're drenched. And so am I." He looked down at himself with a disgusted grimace.

Megan followed his gaze, but the feelings the sight of him elicited were about as far from disgust as they could be. He was wearing thin cargo pants, and the way the soaked fabric clung to his muscular thighs made her swallow. She had gotten so used to having him around that for the most part she didn't even notice his looks anymore, but seeing him like this was different. Megan was pretty sure she could see the outline of his cock through his pants, and… _Maker, is that all him?_ Just then he turned and presented her with the perfect curve of his ass, and she gasped involuntarily. Really, he might as well be naked. _Naked might be less enticing, actually._

"We need to get out of these clothes before we catch a cold." His words echoed her thoughts so closely that she almost blushed, but of course he was right.

"I… I don't think I have anything dry left." She carefully fished for her backpack, but it was just as soaked as she was. "Damn it. What-"

"You can have one of my shirts." Zevran was already digging through his things, tossing her a towel and a green t-shirt. "It's my last one, though."

They didn't look at each other while they dried off and changed, though he must have gotten a good eyeful of her breasts through her wet white shirt earlier on. _Ah, well, nothing to be done about it._ Fortunately, the shirt he'd given her was long enough to reach down to her thighs – she'd been soaked through and her panties needed drying off just as much as the rest of her clothes.

When she turned, he was sitting cross-legged on his air mattress, motioning for her to join him. He had put on a pair of tight jeans, but he was still bare-chested, and it was… distracting, to say the least. Megan had wondered if he had more tattoos on his chest and back, and she couldn't quite keep her eyes off the dark lines twirling all over his body in intricate patterns, brought to life by the flickering light of the camping torch.

He noticed her looking, of course. "You like my tattoos?" He was practically _preening_ under her regard.

"They're gorgeous." Her throat was far too dry. "And you know it very well." It was a relief to take her refuge in sarcasm.

"I do." Zevran grinned, raising an eyebrow at her rather pointedly. "Just as you're no doubt aware that you have lovely legs."

"You-" Instinctively, she pulled her legs closer to her body, but he stopped her with a gesture. "It is fine, _cara_. Don't worry. Just because I admire your body, doesn't mean I want to sleep with you."

"You don't?" Megan could have slapped herself the moment the words left her lips.

Zevran's grin widened. "Well, if you put it like that…"

Suddenly, he was right in front of her, so close she could feel the heat of his skin, so close she was breathing in his scent, spicy and delicious, so close it would take only the smallest move to touch him. Slowly, teasingly, he ran a finger along her cheek, brushing it over her lips, then trailing it down her throat.

"Zev." Megan's nipples were tingling with want, and they were so hard he was bound to notice it. "I told you I don't want complications, remember?"

He laughed softly. "Who says there have to be complications? Just because you sleep with me… If you want to, of course, and I think you do." His fingertip wandered lower, lazily circling her nipples without actually touching them. "It wouldn't necessarily mean you'd fall in love with me. I'm good, but not even I am _that_ good."

"So you're saying…" Megan found it increasingly hard to string words together into coherent sentences. "You're saying we could still be friends. Just friends. Even if we-"

"Absolutely." Bending down, he flicked his tongue against her stiff nipple, just once, but it was like an electric shock, racing all the way down to her core.

Megan didn't bother holding back her needy moan anymore. Burying her fingers in his long hair, she pulled his head closer, whining when he sucked hard through the fabric. It felt so good, and she'd missed this so much, a hot mouth driving her to distraction, strong hands claiming her body. Maker, but she'd missed _sex_ , plain and simple.

For a heartbeat, the memories threatened to overwhelm her, the thought of Nate's hungry kisses, of Carver's eager lips, but then she shook them off impatiently. That was the past, and now she was in Zevran's arms, and it was Zevran she craved, beautiful, luscious Zevran, who knew just how to touch her, and-

His lips found hers, and the world went away for a while. _Oh sweet Andraste, and he knows how to kiss, too._ Zevran's kisses were pure sex, hot and deep and demanding, stripping away all her defences and leaving her full of sheer, naked need. Megan whimpered in his mouth, completely overcome, and he responded with a small soothing noise, deep in his throat. But she didn't want to be soothed, anything but that. Taking his hand, she guided it lower, between her legs, in a mute plea for _more_. More touch, more stimulation, more of that delicious heat his hands created.

Zevran was more than ready to give her what she wanted. Without hesitation, he dipped his fingers into her wet heat, no panties to stop him from going straight for the kill. And all the time, he kept kissing her, greedily plundering her mouth as if he couldn't stop himself. Again and again, his tongue entangled with hers, stroking the inside of her mouth intimately, then thrusting deep, mirroring the motion of his fingers inside her.

She was so wet and open that she was ready to beg, and she could feel him against her thigh, thick and hard and hot, even through his jeans.

Reluctantly, she tore her mouth away from his. "Zevran! Get your pants off!"

"As you wish." The torchlight was too dim to make out his expression in detail, but the smile in his voice was audible.

He had a condom in his pocket, no surprise there, and he rolled it on with quick, practiced moves. Kneeling between her spread legs, he took hold of himself and stroked the head of his cock softly along her opening, visibly enjoying the way she shuddered at the caress.

"How do you want me?" The velvet softness of his voice soothed her frayed nerves momentarily, even as his words made her arch up in renewed arousal. "Tell me, _cara_."

"I don't care, just-" She was trembling all over now. "Just, please…"

"Shhh." Realizing she was beyond teasing, he pushed inside her, ever so slowly, carefully adjusting the angle.

Megan completely forgot how to breathe. With Nate, they had never had enough time to work out the subtleties. It had been sweet and intense and overwhelming, but at the same time awkward and clumsy. _This_ … There was no hesitation with Zevran, no fumbling. He moved with perfect assurance, watching her face with an intense concentration that was somehow both exciting and endearing.

When he was all the way inside her, Zevran paused for a moment, giving her a chance to adjust to the sensation of it, so thick, so hard, so wonderful. Instinctively, she pulled her legs up and spread them wider, and he slid even deeper, impossibly deep, straight to her very core. He responded with a small stifled noise, then he pulled back, kissing her again and thrusting inside her at the same time, hard and fast.

Megan cried out, clenching tightly around him, and he pulled back again with a shaky laugh. "Ah, but you like that, don't you?"

"Maker, yes." And she did, Megan realized, she liked it so very much. She liked the feel of him inside her, liked what he was doing to her, and she wanted more, harder, faster, _now_.

There was no need to tell him. Arranging her body just the way he wanted it, Zevran quickly sped up the pace of his thrusts, his eyes locked with hers, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside her with unerring precision, and she was so close already, so close to coming, and she wanted to come so badly and-

"Come for me. Now." There was no trace of doubt in his voice as he reached down and found her clit, his touch combining with the rough rasp of his voice to send her over the edge.

Her orgasm hit her like a whip, sharp and intense, with smaller waves of pleasure resonating all through her body. Zevran laughed triumphantly, then withdrew, only to flip her over and enter her from behind. In that new position, it took him only a few more thrusts until he came as well, jerking hard against her, fingers digging deep into her flesh.

* * *

With a contented sigh, Zevran rolled over on his back and pulled Megan into the nook of his arm, solicitously covering her shivering body with his sleeping bag. He'd wanted her for quite some time now, and he was sincerely grateful for the rainstorm that had sped up things a bit. He'd been sure it would be good with her, and tonight had been all he'd hoped for, and more.

"Zev?" Megan glanced up at him, her tone unusually subdued. "Was I… was that okay?"

" _What_?" Shaking his head, he pulled her up so he could look into her eyes. "Do you want me to review your performance now?"

She actually blushed. "No. It's just… I haven't really done this very often and-"

"What do you mean, 'not very often'?" He frowned as he painted the quotes in the air with his fingers.

Megan squirmed a bit. "Well… Once. Just the one guy." Her eyes looked large in the dim light, making her look young and vulnerable. "Could you tell?"

He forced himself not to smile, though he _was_ a bit tempted. And rather mad at himself for not noticing earlier just how inexperienced she really was. _Just one guy. Damn it. Next thing you'll be seducing schoolgirls._ Still, it was a bit late for regrets now."No. But you should have told me before. I would have been more considerate, I think."

She pouted a little, and it was an adorable look on her. "But it was fine. I loved it, Zev. All of it. I liked you… less considerate."

"Did you now?" This time he didn't bother to hide his smile. _Young maybe, but not all that innocent, for all her lack of practice_. Softly, he ran a hand down her spine, relishing her answering tremble. "I'll keep that in mind."

"So are we-" Megan broke off, clearly unsure how to phrase it. "Do you want to do this again?"

"I most certainly do. And you?" Zevran held his breath. He was fascinated by Megan, more than he cared to admit, and he wanted more.

She took her time answering. "I… do, yes, but…" When she met his eyes again, all hesitation was gone from her gaze, and her lips were set in a firm line. "Not if you keep sleeping with everyone we meet. I don't want to end up as your fall-back solution on the nights you don't score."

Zevran chuckled. "Fair enough. I promise I'm all yours - as long as we're travelling together." He watched her carefully as he added that last proviso, but she didn't flinch.

"So, no commitment beyond that." She nodded slowly, chewing her lip thoughtfully. "You think that will work, Zev? It's all very rational, isn't it?"

"Not romantic enough, you mean?" Zevran shook his head. "Come here." Slowly, gently, he pulled her into a long kiss, making it as soft and sweet as he could, though even so it turned heated at remarkable speed. When it ended, he pulled back just enough he could look into her eyes, resting his forehead against hers. "I like you very much, Megan, and I want you. Would it be better if I pretended I was in love with you?"

"No. Of course not." She sounded genuinely appalled. "I like that you're honest, and I'm not ready to fall in love again either. It's just… It seems weird to be so cool and clear-headed about sex."

He let his voice drop deliberately. "Ah, _cara_ , but you'll be anything but clear-headed when I'm done with you." A flutter of quick kisses down her throat had her arch up in his arms, moaning helplessly. "Want to bet?"

As Zevran lost himself in her warm, eager body once again, he wondered briefly how long their little arrangement would last. A good long while, he hoped. There was so much he wanted to show her.


	5. Chapter 5

The old amphitheatre that served as an outdoor cinema was _the_ place to spend an evening in the tent village, especially for couples. No one in the audience seemed to mind that the screen occasionally swayed in a gust of wind, or that the sound system was less than stellar. And tonight's movie, _Hightown Hijinks,_ wasn't really about witty dialogue, anyway.

The movie was set in Kirkwall, and followed the adventures of a group of upper class kids who were doing their best to overcome the terrible ennui of being rich and privileged. More than once, Megan rolled her eyes at their self-indulgent whining, but then again, watching four beautiful young people enjoy drugs and sex in various attractive settings had its charms.

The lead character was a dark-haired guy with a pouty mouth and a defiant attitude. His looks and accent reminded her a little of Carver, and that made her sad and horny at the same time. Which was a complicated state of mind to be in.

Next to her, Zevran was lounging on the rough stone bench, one hand resting casually on her thigh. He seemed to be enjoying the movie, though it was hard to tell, since she couldn't see his features clearly in the dim light. Now and then, he flashed her a quick smile, and whenever the onscreen action got more heated, she felt his fingers tighten on her leg, promising good things for later, after the movie.

She was a little surprised when, about halfway through the screening, he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer, almost into his lap. For all his blatant sensuality, Zevran wasn't really given to public displays of affection. Megan was still struggling with the exact terms of their relationship. She was actually a little disappointed about his lack of what she thought of as typical boyfriend behaviour. Zevran was just as nice and helpful and attentive as he had been before they'd first slept together. But, there was no cuddling, no possessive hold around her waist, no kissing in quiet corners, at least not during the day. And yet, they had spent every single night together for the past two weeks, and the sex had been mind-blowing, to say the least.

His lips were on her neck now, soft and teasing, while his hand began to move in soft circles on her thigh, finding the bare skin on top of her high stockings, then slowly moving further and further up until he reached the hem of her short skirt. Megan's body responded with embarrassing swiftness. Already, her nipples were stiff and aching, even the slight brush of her shirt's fabric against them a delicious torture, and her panties were damp enough to cling to her flesh. It didn't help that the couple on the screen was moaning unrestrainedly in simulated ecstasy. Nor were they the only ones who were feeling inspired by them, judging from the sounds she could pick up from the couples around them.

Zevran shifted a little in his seat and she couldn't resist placing a hand on his thigh, too. He made a small noise of agreement and reached for his leather jacket, spreading it over both their laps like a blanket, as if he was worried she might be cold. It _was_ a bit chilly, but Megan was pretty sure that wasn't his real motivation. When she cupped him through his tight jeans, her suspicions were confirmed. He was unapologetically hard, and he made no objection whatsoever when she unbuttoned his fly and wrapped a hand around him.

Carefully, she ran her hand up and down his impressive length, nearly moaning aloud when he retaliated by slipping two fingers past her panties and between her moist folds.

"Ah, _cara_." His face was buried in her hair, and she was proud to realize that his voice, low and seductive, was a little shaky with need. "Just you wait. As soon as we're alone, I'm going to make love to you properly and you're going to come so hard you scream in my arms."

Megan's breath hitched at his words, and she clenched around his fingers, biting back a giggle when he responded with a quick, jerky thrust, clearly unable to stop his hips from moving.

"Think you're going to last long enough?" Tightening her grip around his cock, she whispered back, feeling a wild rush of power when he stifled a groan by biting down hard on her shoulder. "Don't you want to come right now, right here?"

Zevran laughed breathlessly in her ear. "Ah. You like this, don't you? The thrill, the risk, the thought that someone will realize what we're doing, no?" He punctuated his words with brief, shallow thrusts of his fingers, and Megan had to hide her face against his neck to stop herself from moaning out loud.

"Still..." Deftly, he caught her hand, pulling it away from his pulsing cock and up to his face, kissing her palm passionately. "I'd rather keep a bit of that delicious tension for later. And avoid making one hell of a mess," he added with an almost comical grimace, tucking himself away quickly.

Megan couldn't believe her ears. And, more importantly, she really didn't want to hear what he was saying. Now that he had pulled back his hand, she felt _empty_. More than anything, she wanted to be touched by him again, wanted it so badly that it was difficult to see straight. And she wanted to touch him, too, wanted to feel him swell in her hand, wanted to hear his stifled gasp as he came.

"Zev, please." She almost whined in his ear. "Don't do this to me. I _need_ you. I can't wait."

A shiver went through his body at her words, and he hesitated only for a moment before he got to his feet, pulling her with him. Fortunately, their seats were near the end of a row rather than in the middle, so they didn't have to disturb more than a few people, and they reacted with good-natured jibes rather than annoyance.

Megan didn't care either way. Willingly, she followed Zevran into the shadow of the trees, moaning without a trace of shame when he propped her up against a tree and pushed her skirt impatiently up, out of the way. He didn't bother taking off her panties, just shoved them further aside, baring her to his touch and to the cool evening air. There were people out there in the dark surrounding them, and she could hear muted noises, some of them sounding suspiciously similar to their own moans and gasps. It made her feel dirty and exposed, and a bit cheap, but at the same time it sent such a thrill of excitement through her body that she swayed on her feet.

"Shhh." Zevran's hand was warm and steady on her hips.

Somehow, he'd managed to put on a condom, and now he was hitching her left leg up high on his waist, guiding himself inside her with his other hand and it was... Megan couldn't have held back the long, low whine escaping her mouth, not even to save her life. There was a brief burst of laughter nearby, and then she heard someone move away from them, two or three people by the sound of it, chuckling and exchanging suggestive comments. It was embarrassing as hell, but at the same time, Megan really, truly didn't care.

How could she, with Zevran filling her so wonderfully, his cock spreading her open, pinning her to the rough tree bark behind her, his breath hot and urgent in her ear? He didn't bother with refinement, didn't even try to make it last. This was going to be rough and fast, had to be, of necessity. The position was too uncomfortable and awkward to keep up for any longer stretch of time.

Still, as far as Megan was concerned, the extra excitement made up quite nicely for any drawbacks. Zevran felt different inside her like this, hitting her in new and unexpected places, and everything was so tight, so intense, almost more than she could handle. And they were both so far gone already, both of them half-crazy with desire, unable to take it slow.

Megan came first, with a last helpless cry, but Zevran wasn't far behind. He had to steady himself with one hand against the tree as he pulled out of her, his legs shaking with the effort, but he was laughing, a light, exhilarated laugh.

"Maker, Megan." He shook his head. "You are incredible."

* * *

They never found out how the movie ended, but Zevran didn't care that much anyway. There was no doubt in his mind that they had found a much better way to spend the evening. As they made their way back to the tent, he kept reliving every single moment in his mind: Megan's moans as he pushed inside her; the incredible sensation of her tight, hot body around his cock; the mad intensity of his orgasm, buzzing all the way through him, from his head down to his toes… _So fucking good!_

Outside their tent, they ran into Morrigan and Sten, who had spent the evening discussing politics with a group of students from an elite business college at Kinloch Hold.

Morrigan was full of contempt for their opinions and attitudes. "'We have to honour tradition', they said. Kept on about how the status quo benefitted everyone in the long run, and how academic neutrality was a vital part of the scientific discourse." She snorted. "They've got their noses buried so deep in their books they can't even see how far removed from the realities of modern Thedas they are. Stupid, self-obsessed, ignorant bores!"

Sten grunted his approval, and Zevran made the appropriate affirmative noises, but he wasn't really listening.

Megan, too, seemed to be a little bored by the topic. Instead, her gaze was focussed on a group of green canvas tents someone had erected right next to their lot. They looked sturdy and well-used, each of them big enough for four or five people. The same badge was printed on every tent, a charging mabari with the letters BSF under it. As Zevran watched, a small troop of boys approached, marching in file and belting out a campfire song with considerable enthusiasm. They were about 12 or 13 years old and dressed in uniforms. A tall young man with blond hair led them to the tents and motioned for them to get inside.

Zevran nudged Megan with his elbow. “What in Andraste’s name-“

“Scouts,” she replied, frowning. “See the badge? BSF, for _Boy Scouts of Ferelden_. My brother used to be in the local troop in Amaranthine. They're all about honour, patriotism, and the great outdoors." She sighed, rolling her eyes skywards. "Great. Nothing like a bunch of overeager teenage boys to ruin your camping experience. I just hope they won't stay long.”

Zevran grinned. “We can always leave if they get too annoying. Where would you like to go next, eh?”

He ran an affectionate hand down her slim back, but Megan hardly seemed to hear him. She was still staring over at the tents, where the young man was now squatting with his back to them, talking to a small boy with a large bruise on his knee. The kid was sniffling and looked ready to cry, but then the man said something that made his face light up in a bright smile. With a gentle pat on the kid's shoulder, the guy sent him off to follow the others before getting to his feet and turning around to face them.

Megan gave a small cry of surprise. “Maker, it's really him! I thought I was imagining things. What is _he_ doing here?” Ignoring Zevran's questioning look, she walked a few steps toward the young man, raising her voice. “Alistair? Alistair Theirin? Is that you?”


	6. Chapter 6

"Night, Alistair. Sweet dreams." With a dazzling smile, Megan got to her feet, breathing a quick kiss on the young man's cheek before she turned to leave.

Zevran shook his head as he watched her return. _What in Thedas is she playing at?_

Alistair went bright red, raising his hand to touch his cheek. His eyes followed Megan, firmly fixed on her back, as if he was hypnotized by the seductive swing of her hips.

Zevran rather pitied the young man. Megan had spent a large part of the past two evenings over at the scout campfire, laughing and talking with Alistair, renewing their acquaintance. She knew him from school, she'd said, and it was nice to see a familiar face after a few weeks on the road. He could certainly understand that, but-

"Really, _cara_. You need to stop toying with Alistair's affections." Zevran frowned at her as they got ready for the night. "It's not like you to be so cruel."

"I'm not cruel!" Megan protested. "It's just- He's so adorably awkward when I flirt with him. I mean, have you _seen_ him blush?"

"That is exactly what I said. Cruel." Zevran crossed his arms over his chest, giving her his most severe look. "Leave the poor boy alone. It's not fair to awaken hopes you don't intend to fulfil, no? Unless…" A thought occurred to him. "Do you actually _want_ him?"

"Do I _what_?" Megan shook her head, irritation clearly written on her expressive face. "Zevran! Why would I want _Alistair_ , of all people? Look, I've known him forever, and he's a nice guy, but that's all. I've never even considered sleeping with him."

"Why not?" Zevran shrugged. "He's handsome, kind, has a sense of humour…"

Megan made a pained noise, but he ignored her. "All I'm saying is that if you want him, I would be fine with that."

"You'd be fine with it?" Megan looked torn between anger and amusement. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"What I said." He pulled her closer. "It might be a good idea, actually. Maybe it would do you good to experiment a little."

"Maybe, yeah… But _Alistair!_ " Megan made a moue of distaste. "And honestly, Zev? I've got you to take care of all my needs. Why would I even want anyone else?"

Moulding herself against him, she ran a hand through his hair to caress his ear, fully aware that this was a sensitive spot for him.

But Zevran wasn't ready to be distracted yet. "Or you could ask him to join us."

He had hoped to shock her, maybe to titillate her imagination a little, but the effect his words had on her was diametrically opposed to his intention. From one moment to the other, the spark in her eyes was gone and her face closed up.

"No. That kind of thing never works out." Her voice was flat, almost lifeless.

"And how would you know, _carissima_?" He was so surprised by her reaction that it slipped out before he could stop himself. "Considering your vast experience of, what was it? 'One guy'?"

He regretted his words immediately, expecting her to be mad at him, and with reason. But she didn't protest, didn't even seem angry. Instead, Megan looked… hurt and shaken, more so than he'd ever seen her.

"Two, actually." It was almost a whisper. "Technically, I only slept with one of them, but the three of us…" She drifted off, looking desperately unhappy.

"Megan. I'm sorry." He pulled her into his arms again, but she was stiff and distant. "I really am. And more than a little curious," he added, in a half-hearted attempt to lighten the mood.

But it was no use. "I don't want to talk about it." Megan's whole body felt tense with anger and sadness.

"And you don't have to." He sighed, stroking her back in soothing circles, relieved when she relaxed a little. "I promise I won't bother you anymore, okay?"

She sobbed a little, just once, and then she let him hold her properly, melting into his arms like she usually did. They stayed like this for a while, just cuddling, without speaking a word.

When he finally pulled back, he looked searchingly at her pale face. "Are we good?"

"Yes." She nodded, sniffling a little. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."

"No. I was an idiot." He kissed her chastely. "But there's one thing…" Taking hold of her chin, he made her look him into the eyes. "You don't have to tell me anything," he repeated. "Whatever happened, it was hurtful for you, and I don't need the details. But please, _cara_ …" He hesitated a moment, searching for the right words. "Please don't let this one disappointment taint all your future relationships, no? Please don't assume that whatever went wrong will go wrong again. You're still very young and-"

"And you are so very old and wise yourself, grandpa." Megan's eyes were sparkling with sudden amusement.

He was glad to see she was back to teasing him, but at the same time this was too important to let her get away with levity. "Promise me." He tightened his grip on her face until she grimaced. "Yes?"

"Yeah." Her expression softened the moment he let go of her. "I promise. And, Zev?" She kissed him, just a quick peck, but her lips were soft and sweet. "Thank you." 

"Any time, Megan. I'm here whenever you need me." The sincerity in his voice came as a surprise even to himself. 

He wasn't in love with Megan, Zevran was sure of that. _None of the pain, for one thing._ But, at the same time, he was honest enough to admit that this wasn't just a fling, passionate as it might be. Even though he'd only known her for such a short time, Megan had become important to him, a good friend, and he had precious few of those. _Ah, well. No use overanalyzing things_. 

Especially now that Megan was obviously ready to leave their discussion behind. The familiar mischievous gleam in her eyes was back as she wiggled out of her shirt and pants. She had a lovely body, trim and fit, with small round breasts that moved temptingly as she raised her arms.

"Come on, Zev. Let's do something about my sad lack of experience, shall we?"

He rolled his eyes at her words, but he didn't need to be asked twice. Pulling her in his arms, he found her lips in a long,hungry kiss.

Megan wiggled against him, making a small, happy noise when she felt him against her stomach, already more than half hard. "Ah, Zev. You're _always_ up for more, aren't you?"

Zevran moaned as she took hold of him. "Of course." His hand came up to cup one of her breasts, pinching the nipple gently, then harder when he felt it tighten in his grip. "You have no idea how enticing you are, have you?"

She made a clucking noise with her tongue, but he could tell she was flattered. "And to think I'd expected you to lose interest in me quickly once you had what you wanted."

"Why would I lose interest in you, hmmm?" With just a few skilled touches she was wet for him. _So eager_. Zevran mentally shook his head. No, he wasn't jaded enough to tire of her so quickly. "Besides, I haven't even had a fraction of the things I want," he purred in her ear, relishing the shiver that ran through her. "I want you every way imaginable, Megan. I want to do things to you that you don't even know can be done. I want to spend hours caressing you, finding every spot that makes you shiver. I want to make love to you until you forget your own name, until you beg me to stop. I want-“

She stopped him with a finger on his lips. "Then do it. No more talking. Show me how you want me."

His breath caught in his throat. "With pleasure, _cara_."

They didn't talk much afterwards as they made themselves as comfortable as they could on one narrow mattress. It was getting colder each night. Soon, they would have to sleep inside their sleeping bags, rather than huddled together under one of them, as they had done in the past weeks. Or they would have to head north, where it was warmer. 

For now, he could still enjoy a few nights like this, with Megan in his arms, listening to her breathing as she fell asleep. Their lovemaking had been more restrained this time, tender and languorous. He'd taken his time, patient and controlled, and for once, she'd seemed more than content with that.

Normally, Megan enjoyed a little roughness in bed and got impatient when his caresses got too elaborate. He'd been surprised by that at first, but not put off by it.Zevran appreciated any departure from the expected, especially in bed. It wasn't one of his finer qualities, maybe, but he knew he tended to get bored easily when the first rush of desire was over. Once routine set in and things got too predictable, it was difficult for him to feign any kind of sustained interest.  

But so far, there was little danger of boredom where Megan was concerned, and the glimpse he'd gotten of her past today was a case in point. _Messing around with two guys at the same time, before she'd even turned eighteen_! Even Zevran was impressed. 

Gently, he traced the features of her sleeping face with his fingers, wondering how many more surprises she would have in store for him. He rather looked forward to finding out. 

* * *

"So, what are your plans, now that the summer is well and truly over?" Alistair scratched his neck, avoiding her gaze.

Megan couldn't really see a reason for his bashful behavior, but she had pretty much given up on finding one. That was just Alistair, awkward, but sweet. Back at school, she had never really talked to him much, but in the past few days she'd gotten to know him a little better, and she was ready to admit he was a genuinely nice guy.

"We talked about that last night, actually, me and the others. Morrigan thinks we should follow the sun, maybe even as far as Tevinter, but I don't know..." Megan shivered a little, pulling her leather jacket more tightly around her body. "Whatever we do, we can't stay here any longer. One more week maybe, but that's it."

"No." Alistair nodded in agreement. "I'm off, too. This lot here is leaving tomorrow, and they're my last troop of scouts for this year. Their parents wouldn't appreciate it if we dragged the kids out here in the cold season."

Megan had been surprised to find that Alistair was really good with children. When he was with them, he exuded a quiet competence, whether he was dealing with a broken-down tent or a homesick kid. _A pity he's so shy. With his looks, he ought to have no problem finding a nice girlfriend._ She'd never noticed it at school, but he was well-built and fit, and he had a pleasant, open face. And if he was a little immature, well, a lot of girls would be only too happy to help him grow up.

_Not me, though_. Megan really had no interest in Alistair, cute as he might be. She'd done her best to follow Zevran's advice, treating him as a friend, nothing more, and avoiding any overt flirting, but even so, she felt a tinge of guilt whenever he looked at her with those big puppy eyes, vaguely hopeful but never quite daring to make a move. Was he falling in love with her? She rather hoped not.

Either way, she enjoyed having him around. On impulse, she smiled at him. "Why don't you stay here with us for a few more days? Or do you have any other plans?"

"I… Not right away, no. I definitely have a week or so to spare." Alistair smiled shyly back. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

"Well, then." Megan jumped to her feet. "You can move your tent over to our lot tomorrow. Look, that's Morrigan's over there, the red one between the two birches, and Sten's next to it. The big green one is Zevran's."

"And where's your tent?" Alistair cleared his throat.

"Oh, I share with Zevran." She kept her tone carefully matter-of-fact, but she was watching his face.

Alistair didn't reply, but he swallowed briefly, and his eyes looked sad. _Definitely disappointed_. Megan cursed inwardly, but there was nothing to be done. He would have to deal.

"Well?" She raised a questioning eyebrow. "Will you join us tomorrow?"

"I…" Alistair hesitated for a moment, but then he shook himself like a wet dog and smiled at her. "Yeah. Gladly."

"Good." Megan nodded firmly. "Welcome to the party."

                                     


	7. Chapter 7

"All right, let's assume for a moment we go to Denerim, because I sure as hell can't afford a train ticket to Minrathous." Megan sounded irritable, and Zevran couldn't blame her. "What then?"

They had spent the past two hours discussing what to do next, now that the weather in Ferelden was getting too cold for camping. Morrigan had suggested moving on to Tevinter, or maybe Seheron, where it was much warmer. But really, where would they find the money for that kind of journey? Trying their luck in the big city seemed a far more reasonable course of action.

"We might be able to find jobs in Denerim," Morrigan conceded. "But we'd still have to find a place to live, and the city is expensive."

"Well, we could all share an apartment to save money." Megan's eyes were a little too round and innocent, Zevran thought. She must have known that particular suggestion wouldn't go over well with Morrigan.

Predictably, Morrigan huffed and threw her an icy glare. "You're not suggesting we share with _them_." She made a contemptuous gesture that included all three guys. "I'd rather move in with a mabari."

Sten had said nothing so far, just shaken his head and muttered ominously. And Alistair had made several half-hearted attempts to get in a word edgewise, but so far, with little success.

"Well, now, my dear Morrigan." Zevran couldn't keep still any longer. "I can assure you that I'm considerably less smelly than the average mabari. I can't speak for the other two, of course."

Alistair just sighed. "Look, if I may say something-"

"What could you possibly have to say that's worth listening to?" Yes, Morrigan was definitely in a bad mood. Zevran flinched.

"Morrigan!" Megan shook her head. "Let him talk."

Alistair threw her a grateful look. "Well, Daveth, he was one of the scout volunteers, you know, he said… He said he would try for a job on one of the cruise ships sailing north. They're always looking for staff, and you get free board and lodging."

"A cruise ship." Morrigan's voice was dripping with distrust. "What would we be doing there? I'm not going anywhere near kids," she added with a moue of distaste.

"I don't think you'd have to." Alistair lifted his hands in a soothing gesture. "They have all kinds of openings, in the kitchens or with the cabin staff. And even if you join the entertainers, you could always offer dancing or crafting classes, or whatever it is you enjoy."

"Hmmph." Morrigan sounded a little mollified. "You know, maybe you're not quite as stupid as you look."

"Thanks, I guess." Alistair made a face.

Megan was chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. "It _is_ a good idea. Though it would mean we'd be far away from home for Satinalia, wouldn't it?"

Alistair nodded, and Zevran didn't miss the brief shadow crossing his face. "I don't really have any family to go to anyway, just my uncle. I wouldn't mind."

"Same here." Morrigan's eyes narrowed a little.

Sten just nodded, as did Zevran himself. He certainly didn't fancy returning home for the holiday. But Megan-

"Ah, well. I'm sure my parents will survive." She raised her chin determinedly. "All right. Let's see if this works out."

In the end, it was surprisingly easy. Once they reached Denerim, Alistair quickly managed to locate Daveth, his fellow scout volunteer, who agreed to put them in touch with the right people. The _Griffon's Wing_ , sailing from Denerim to Dairsmuid by way of Estwatch, Llomerryn, Rialto, and Treviso, was desperately looking for young people eager to see the world and ready to put up with minimal payment and cramped quarters. Sten opted for a job in the ship's kitchen, while Megan along with Zevran, Alistair, Morrigan, and Daveth joined the entertainment staff.

The two girls shared a cabin, as did Alistair and Daveth, while Sten bunked with a friendly but timid fellow galley steward called Jory. Somehow Zevran managed to end up with a single cabin. The entertainment staff was made up of young people from all over Thedas, kept in line by a formidable former schoolteacher from Kinloch called Mrs Wynne. _She_ definitely suspected that Megan was spending most of her nights with Zevran, and she didn't approve, but since they were all of age, there was not a lot she could do.

Which was a blessing, because Megan was pretty sure they wouldn't have been able to keep their hands off each other for the six weeks they would spend on board. They would take their time on the outward journey and reach Dairsmuid just in time for Satinalia, when they would get a few days off to celebrate on the beach before returning south at a much faster pace. Not all guests would stay for the full round trip, of course – only the very rich could afford to take off so much time. Then again, the _Griffon's Wing_ was a proper luxury liner.

Megan had never been on a cruise ship and she had no idea what to expect, but one thing was certain: There would be no time to get bored.

* * *

"Finally got rid of your dance partner? Me, too." Joining him at the bar, Daveth greeted Zevran with a wide grin and a hearty slap on the shoulder.

They'd spent the past two hours entertaining a pair of vapid young girls from Ostwick, the twin daughters of a fabulously rich industrialist. Zevran had done his best to be charming and polite while he had whisked his partner across the dance floor. Too charming, maybe. The girl had kept glancing at him with moist, hopeful puppy eyes, but in the end she'd given up and gone to bed. He was sincerely glad he was free to enjoy what was left of the evening.

"About time." He smiled back at Daveth. "Let's have a drink."

He had gotten to know Daveth a little during their journey north and appreciated his dry sense of humour. More often than not, they would end up at the bar together at the end of a long day, exchanging observations and anecdotes. Daveth was a few years older than the others, and he'd been around the block once or twice. He was easy on the eyes, too, with his dark hair and light brown eyes, at least if you liked the scruffy, unshaved look.

"Three more days till Dairsmuid." Daveth took a deep draught from his glass. "I'll be glad to have a few days away from it all."

"Me, too." Zevran nodded enthusiastically. "Say, have you ever-"

"Zev. Daveth. You won't believe what happened to me." To his surprise, Megan appeared at his side, looking flushed and excited.

Zevran signalled for the bartender to bring her a drink and patted the bar stool next to his invitingly. They tended to see little of each other during the day when they were all busy keeping the tourists happy. Megan looked worn out, and no wonder. Their shifts started at ten in the morning and rarely ended before midnight, and their days off were restricted to the times when the guests went on shore excursions.

"What is it, _cara_?" He smiled at her, wondering if he dared sneak a kiss. Wynne would have a fit if she saw them, of course.

"See that guy over there?" Megan made a small motion with her head toward a group of businessmen seated at a corner table. "The short, stocky one with the red hair and beard and the big nose?"

Daveth nodded. "That's Bhelen Aeducan. From Orzammar. Filthy rich and, if it's true what people say, involved with one of the crime syndicates there. You'd better not get on his wrong side."

Megan snorted. "Oh, he likes me well enough. He just offered me 500 crowns for a blow job."

"He did _what_?" Zevran couldn't believe his ears.

"Ah. There's always one of them on each journey." Daveth didn't seem too perturbed. "You'd better talk to old Wynne, so she can warn the other girls."

"What did you do?" Zevran did his best not too glare too obviously at the man.

"Told him politely that I'd love to, but I couldn't risk it, if I wanted to keep my job." Megan grinned. "Though, honestly, I was almost tempted. I mean, 500 crowns! That's not too shabby, you know."

Daveth shook his head. “No offense, Meg, but… You may be talented, but I doubt you're worth _that_ much.”

Zevran felt his eyebrows fly up. _You might be surprised_. He barely managed to stop himself from saying the words aloud. The faint crinkles of amusement around Megan's eyes suggested she had read his mind perfectly, though.

His suspicion was confirmed a little later when she joined him in his cabin, wearing nothing but a thin nightie. "Well, Zev?" She smiled cheekily at him. "You wouldn't happen to have 500 crowns on you, would you?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, my dear." Lying back on his narrow cot, he stretched voluptuously, enjoying the way her eyes lingered on his bare chest. "I don't think I can afford your services at those rates."

"Well, aren't you lucky you're getting them for free, then." Kneeling between his outstretched legs, she winked up at him and ran her hand lightly up his thigh. "Don't you think?"

"Exceedingly lucky," he affirmed, closing his eyes in anticipation.

And then his pants came off and her soft lips were on him, and it was every bit as good as he'd expected, if not better. Megan might not have been very experienced when it came to actual PIV sex back when they'd first met, but she'd always been adept at pleasuring him with her mouth. Clearly, she'd had a lot of practice in that particular area, and Zevran wasn't about to complain.

Her mouth felt incredibly good around him as she took him in deep, so deep he nearly lost it. She knew exactly when to pull back, though, keeping her hand wrapped around his shaft while she focussed on the crown, nibbling, sucking, teasing him with soft little kisses until he was close, so close he was seeing stars. And then, right before he came, she pulled back again, giving him a moment to recover before she sucked him back deep into her mouth and began the whole process anew, only to leave him right on the edge a second time, then a third, and a fourth.

By the time she finally allowed him his release, he was wound up like a coiled spring, and his orgasm tore through him with such force that he couldn't do more than sob her name, over and over, his body curled in a tight ball around her, his hands clenched in her hair, his _toes_ curled in sheer, naked pleasure.

It was heaven.

* * *

Megan loved it all. She loved that she could do this to him, that she could make him lose control and reduce him to a shuddering mess. She loved his taste, and the silky skin of his cock under her lips, and the scent of his arousal. And she loved the way he looked at her afterwards, as if she'd just given him the best present ever.

"Well?" She smiled affectionately up at Zevran. "Worth 500 crowns?"

"You're joking, yes?" He pulled her up into a long, hungry kiss, moaning when he tasted himself in her mouth. "Right now, I would willingly shower you with gold and diamonds. Thank you, Megan."

"My pleasure." Another kiss made her shiver all over. "I don't mind, you know. It's fun."

"Mmmhmmm." Zevran's lips were hot on her throat now. "I'm glad to hear that. You're also amazingly good at it."

_Yeah, well. All thanks to Carver, I guess_. He'd been the one who'd talked her through her first attempts at going down on Nate, and he'd been full of useful advice. Thinking of him, of them, still made her sad, though, and she didn't want to be sad, not now.

Zevran's grip on her breast tightened almost imperceptibly, his thumb brushing over her nipple. "You know, _cara_ …" His voice was a deep, sonorous purr. "I may not be as rich as certain other people, but I _can_ pay you back in kind."

"Feel free." Megan bit back a yawn, pushing his head down where she wanted it. "Just… I'm really tired. You won't be mad at me if I fall asleep at some point, will you?"

He laughed, but the look in his eyes as he arranged her legs over his shoulders was fierce enough to make her gasp. "You won't. Trust me on this."

And of course she didn't. Zevran was far too experienced to allow that to happen. Oh sure, she was tired, tired enough to drift off into confused dreams of Carver's mouth on her breasts, Nate's lips on her thighs, both their hands everywhere on her body. But every time she started to doze off, lulled into a pleasant haze by Zevran's gentle caresses, he managed to surprise her with yet another creative manoeuvre, a sudden flick of his tongue against her core, a shift of his fingers inside her, a careful bite. And every time that happened, she snapped back into the present, feeling slightly guilty because of her fantasies, yet at the same time incredibly aroused by them.

Zevran didn't seem to mind that she was only half awake. He just kept going, patient and insistent, until he finally put his mouth right on her clit and sucked hard enough to send her straight over the edge. And she came so hard, harder than she had in weeks, so hard that it almost _hurt_.

Megan was too exhausted to talk afterwards, though she vaguely felt she ought to confess to Zevran what had been going on in her head. Then again, he probably wouldn't mind. For all she knew, he was thinking of Maker-knew-who while he was sleeping with her.

Still, it was weird. She hadn't fantasized about Nate or Carver in months, not since their break-up, in fact, so why now? And why had it been so incredibly exciting to think of _them_ , while Zevran was here with her? As her eyes fell shut, the thoughts of them kept bouncing around in her brain. It could have been so good, the three of them together. If only they hadn't messed things up so badly. If only they'd been a bit more rational, less impulsive…

But in the end, she managed to shake those thoughts off. It was no use. Whatever had been, it was over. Life would go on, Zevran would be here to take good care of her, and she would have to face another long day tomorrow.

And Maker, she was _so_ tired.


	8. Chapter 8

Rivain was amazing.

Zevran had grown up on the seaside, near Antiva City, and he had missed the sea, more than he usually admitted to himself. The salty air, the cries of the seagulls, the heat of the sun on his bare skin – this was the life! Not like Ferelden, with its endless rain and snow, its muddy campsites and all those pesky layers of clothing.

Here they were, on a gorgeous beach overlooking Rialto Bay, with palm trees swaying gently in the breeze, soft music playing in the background, and exotic cocktails in their hands. True, the music was coming from an ancient ghetto blaster that tended to sound a bit wheezy, and the cocktails were the ready-made variety, drunk straight from the bottle. But Zevran had never been picky, and they certainly did the job. He was already feeling mildly drunk, even though the stuff in the bottle tasted no stronger than lemonade.

The others were in a good mood, too. They had been a little subdued at first, not quite comfortable with the idea of spending Satinalia on the beach, but that was long forgotten. Even Morrigan had actually giggled once or twice.

Both girls looked good in their skimpy bikinis, with lots and lots of soft creamy skin on display. Daveth, too, was a pleasant sight in his board shorts, lean and fit, if a little pale. _Sunburns waiting to happen for all of them, if they're not careful._ In contrast, Sten wasn't taking any risks, covering up his massive frame with boxers and a t-shirt.

But it was Alistair who'd turned out to be the real surprise. In his wildest dreams, Zevran had never expected him to look _that_ good in a speedo. _Sweet Maker. He's built like one of those Tevinter statues!_ Alistair’s body was perfect, there was simply no other word for it; trim and muscular, with a flat, hard stomach and strong shoulders. And his skin was flawless: smooth, lightly tanned, and covered in a fine sheen of golden hairs. _Yum_. He looked positively edible, and Zevran's imagination quickly went into overdrive. If he could just run his hand up that strong thigh toward that pronounced bulge-

Zevran caught himself just in time. Maker, was he really fantasizing about Alistair? Though, come to think of it, it was perfectly natural. He hadn't been with another man in ages, but it was all too easy to imagine a big strong body moving on top of his, large hands on his skin, rough and calloused, a man's voice muttering dirty suggestions in his ear.

Only, suddenly it wasn't Alistair in his fantasies any longer. The image in his mind that made him shiver despite the heat, that had him so hard that he had to roll over on his stomach to hide it, was not of Alistair's guileless, open face. No, the face his memories conjured up was much darker, the voice much deeper, muttering promises in husky Antivan that sounded oddly like threats. And the hands pinning him down were merciless, possessive, allowing him no escape even had he wanted it.

Not that he'd ever wanted it. Not even at the end, when it all had been such a mess: the jealousy, the fighting, the tears in Rinna's large, dark eyes. Not even then had he wanted to leave, not really. He'd been tied to them, perversely unable to extricate himself from the web of pain and guilt and recriminations. _Such a_ _complete and utter fuck-up_. And running away had solved nothing, ultimately. It never did.

With a deep sigh, he reached for his drink, but then stopped mid-motion. Getting drunk was no longer very appealing. He had a feeling he'd need a clear head tonight.

* * *

Megan wasn't drunk. Just mildly woozy and in a _very_ good mood. But really, who wouldn't be, in a place like this, surrounded by good friends, with everything full of warmth and sun and laughter? Her parents were probably bundling up in warm overcoats now and heading for the chantry service. She made a face at the mere thought. As far as she was concerned, cookies and mulled wine and holiday cheer sounded a whole lot less tempting than piña coladas and hot sand and Zevran’s bare golden skin.

It was getting dark, but a large yellow moon lit the night brightly enough to make any other light unnecessary. It was still warm, no longer scorching hot, but the air was sweet and balmy. Megan saw no reason to object when Zevran grabbed a blanket and took her hand to pull her to her feet and lead her off into the darkness for some privacy.

They settled in a quiet spot, beneath some palm trees, at a little distance from the others. Zevran wasted no time pulling her into his arms for a kiss. He tasted of fruit and rum, and his lips were a little chapped from a day spent in the sun and the salty ocean water. Megan moaned into his mouth. _More_. She needed more of him, right now.

Straddling him, she ground herself against him through the thin material of his shorts. Zevran was hard already, had been for some time, if she was any judge, and he groaned deep in his throat, taking hold of her hips to guide her movements. His lips found her breasts, nudging aside her bikini top just far enough so he could get his mouth on her. And oh, Maker, his mouth! The things he did to her with his tongue, with his teeth, the small noises he made as he sucked harder… Megan closed her eyes, every nerve in her body alive with pure, intense delight at the feel of his lips on her skin, skin already oversensitive with want.

"You taste so wonderful." Zevran was breathless, panting against her chest, pausing only for a moment before renewing his assault.

Megan gave herself up completely to the moment, hoping he would never stop and she would never lose the heat of his mouth, locked tight around her nipple. At the same time she wanted that mouth _everywhere_ on her skin, needed him to kiss her, to touch her, to get inside her. His length sliding along her core drove her wild with desire, and she knew he could feel how wet she was, how desperate for him.

"Megan. Please, I-" His clever fingers were busy untying the fastenings of her top, then her bikini bottoms, which had tiny bows at the side. When she'd bought them, she'd thought they were a little too cutesy, but they turned out to be immensely practical now.

Lifting her up a little, Zevran somehow wiggled out of his shorts, so they were skin to skin, his hot cock pressed directly against her core. He cursed under his breath, struggling visibly to hold back long enough to find a condom and put it on. He groaned as he slid inside her in one easy move because she was so very ready for him. For a heartbeat, his hands tightened on her hips, but then he lay back and relaxed his grip, allowing her to move freely. And all the time his eyes were on her, dark and hungry in the light of the moon, devouring her as she rode him, her thighs tight around his slim flanks.

Megan thought she would die of sheer bliss. He felt so incredibly good inside her, and he let her take what she wanted from him, at her own pace, arching his back the tiniest bit, to help her find the perfect angle. She was sure it couldn't get any better, until his hands came up to cup her breasts, to pinch her nipples, just this side of painful, and another spark of lust made her clench hard around him.

And still it wasn't quite enough, and Zevran knew, of course he knew. One of his hands found its way between her legs, his fingertips dancing over her clit without breaking her rhythm, so light, so perfect that it made her want to cry. It felt good, insanely good, all her sweet spots stimulated at the same time, everything combining into a single, glorious burst of heat, tearing through every cell of her body. And she _screamed_ , hoarse and rough, not caring if the others over at the campfire could hear her. She screamed her completion into the vast, midnight blue sky, screamed because she couldn't possibly contain it all inside her body. _Too much, too good._

Zevran took her cry from her lips in a greedy kiss, as if he wanted to swallow it, as if he wanted to share in the ecstasy bursting from her lips. His hips snapped up under her, once, twice, before he came, with a long, convulsive shudder, burying his face between her breasts.

"Sweet Andraste." When he raised his head, he looked positively wrecked.

His hair was tousled, and he was breathing so hard she could see his chest rise and fall. His eyes were unfocussed, glazed over with lust. Vaguely, Megan wondered if she looked the same. Her lip was bleeding where she'd bitten it in ecstasy, and her cheeks felt burning hot. _I'm a hot mess, probably._

It took them both a while to recover, but a quick dip in the water helped them cool down a little. Neither of them felt much like returning to the others, so they remained where they were, huddled together under a blanket under the starry sky, looking out over the dark water of the bay. It was quiet and peaceful, with hardly a sound to be heard.

"We need to talk." When Zevran finally broke the silence, he sounded uncharacteristically serious.

"Sure. What’s the matter?" Megan leaned back against him, savouring the firmness of his chest against her back. Her body felt heavy and relaxed.

"I'm not coming back with you to Denerim." Zevran sounded… hesitant and somehow careful, as if he wasn't sure how she'd react. "There's a few things I need to take care of back home in Antiva. I'll get off the boat in Rialto, on the way back."

"I see." Instinctively, Megan knew there would be no point in complaining or asking him to stay. He'd made up his mind. "Will I see you again? Or…?”

"Of course you will." Zevran seemed almost hurt by her suggestion, but at the same time relieved that she wasn't going to make a fuss. "I'll be in touch. And it probably won't take long. If all goes well, I'll catch up with you in a few weeks."

Megan nodded. "Okay." She was rather proud of how steady her voice was.

"Really?" He tilted her head back a little, so he could look into her eyes.

"Yes. Really." Megan met his gaze without flinching. "I'll be looking forward to seeing you again."

"Me, too." A sudden smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. "More than you know."

* * *

Megan was leaning on the ship’s railing, watching Zevran skip down the gangway as if his hefty backpack weighed nothing at all, exchanging a few cheery Antivan insults with the inevitable gaggle of layabouts loitering at the docks of Rialto’s picturesque harbour. Next to her, Alistair was a comforting presence, warm and familiar.

She and Zevran had said their goodbyes this morning, in his cabin, with a last quick bout of steamy sex. But she'd wanted to see him off, and she was grateful Alistair had joined her. Zevran waved at them once, a cheery smile on his face and then disappeared around a corner without so much as a glance back.

Megan sighed. "Ah, damn it, I'm going to miss him."

Next to her, Alistair cleared his throat. "Then why-" He broke off.

"Why what?" Megan gestured for him to continue.

"I… I just don't get it, Megan." He rubbed his neck, looking uncomfortable. "You and Zev… You're good friends, you…" He blushed up to the roots of his hair. "You seem to have a lot of fun in bed, and you get along so well. And yet you let him go, just like that."

Megan shrugged. "He said he'd be back, and I'm pretty sure he will. As for the rest… It's fine. I mean, it's not as if this is _love_ with a capital L."

"You keep saying that, both of you." Alistair threw her a dark glare. "Why don't you want to admit you're in love, Meg?"

"Because we aren't?" Megan did her best not to roll her eyes. "Zev and me, we have something good, Alistair, whatever it is. But if we started calling it a 'relationship', if we made it exclusive and made plans for marriage and a suburban home, I'm pretty sure we'd ruin it."

"I'm not saying you should get married." Alistair raised both hands in a gesture of defeat. "But what's so wrong with a little commitment?"

"Nothing at all, if both sides want it,” Megan explained patiently. "But we don't. Really, we’re fine just the way we are. Neither of us wants to get tied down just yet."

"So what happens once you go to college? Will he come with you then?" Alistair still seemed to have trouble wrapping his mind about the concept.

"Maker, no!" Megan laughed. "He's got other things he wants to do, I believe. Other people, too," she added with a saucy smile. "Look, Alistair, Zev has been remarkably monogamous for the past few months, but I'm not kidding myself. He's been getting restless lately. There's no way he's ready to settle with just one person. And neither am I."

She really wasn't, she realized, even as Alistair shook his head, a frown of disapproval on his handsome face. There was so much she still wanted to do, so many experiences waiting for her out there. A whole world waiting to be discovered, new places, new loves, new adventures. With a small shiver, she remembered the long, speculative look Daveth had given her at breakfast, when he'd learned Zevran was leaving.

No, she wasn't ready to settle down. Not yet.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The air in the living room was stale and stuffy when she woke. No wonder, with four people crammed into it and the window closed against the cold night air. Megan sat up as quietly as she could, trying not to wake the others. She could just barely make out their faces in the dim light. Morrigan, who had claimed the couch, somehow managed to look flawless and serene, even in her sleep. Sten was snoring softly, his huge body looking even bulkier inside the quilted sleeping bag. Next to him, Alistair had wiggled free of his blanket, and his shirt had ridden up so she could catch a glimpse of his muscular back. _Nice_. He was muttering something incomprehensible, but he, too, was clearly fast asleep.

With a sigh, Megan got to her feet and made her way over to the kitchen. She really needed something to drink. Much as she appreciated Daveth's friendly offer to let them all stay in his apartment in Denerim for a week, things were a bit too crowded for her taste.

They had returned from their stint as temporary staff on the _Griffon's Wing_ only two days ago. Originally, they had planned to sign up for another trip straight away, but on approaching Denerim, they had realized they were all far too exhausted. Six weeks of entertaining the rich and famous, or slaving away in the kitchens in Sten's case, had left them all too tired and worn-out to contemplate a second journey.

All four of them had been enthusiastic when Alistair's aged uncle Eamon had offered them the use of his chalet in Haven for the next month or so. It sounded like paradise – they would have the whole house to themselves, all utilities paid for, and a gorgeous mountain landscape right outside the door. There were only two drawbacks. They would be expected to put in some work during their stay. Nothing strenuous, just some cleaning up and routine repairs, to fix the place up in between the skiing season and the arrival of the first hikers in spring. And they wouldn't be able to go there straight away, since the chalet was still occupied.

Daveth had offered to put them up in the meantime. He was a decent guy, really, Megan thought affectionately, funny and entertaining. And not bad-looking either. She'd always liked them tall and dark.

Grabbing her phone from her bag, she glanced at the screen while she found a glass and filled it at the sink. There was a message from Zevran, and her heart beat faster as she waited for it to load. What was he up to, back in Antiva? The first lines made her bite her lip in disappointment. _Cara mia. It may take a little longer to sort things out here. I'm sorry._ But then he proceeded to describe in loving detail exactly what he intended to do to her once he got back, and Megan felt her cheeks heat up and a smile spread over her face. _Take care, and have fun while I'm away,_ the message ended. Megan shook her head as she took a deep sip of the cold water. It was easy to read between the lines and understand what he was telling her. _No strings. No commitment_.

He'd attached a photo, too. Not a dick pic – Zevran would never be so crude. Just a simple picture of his face: his full lips turned up in a smile, his beautiful amber eyes half-closed. Smiling, Megan traced the lines of his tattoo in the picture.

"Well? Still pining for Zev?" Daveth's voice tore her out of her thoughts.

He was standing in the doorway, dressed only in pyjama pants. His chest was bare, and his hair tousled from sleeping. He was gesturing toward her phone with a wry smile.

"I'm not pining!" Megan swivelled around and let her eyes wander slowly and deliberately all the way down to his feet. Oh yes, he was nice to look at, no doubt about it. "I just couldn't sleep."

Daveth didn't seem to mind her scrutiny. Pulling up a chair, he dropped into it and returned the favour, taking in her short, thin nightshirt and her bare legs with obvious enjoyment. "Me neither."

Megan grinned. This was fun. "So…" She let her eyelids flutter suggestively. "I've heard some people sleep better after a little exercise."

"Exercise, eh?" He leaned back, stretching his long legs. "So we need to tire you out. Any suggestions on how we would do that?"

"Well…" Megan pretended to ponder his question. "I was hoping you'd have an idea or two."

"I might have." His lip twitched in obvious amusement. Clearly, he was enjoying the game just as much as she was. "Easier to show than to tell, though."

"Go ahead, then," Megan purred, licking her lips. "Show me."

Daveth's eyes narrowed. "Come here."

She came willingly, allowing him to pull her sideways into his lap. When she ran her hands all over his chest, she found to her surprise that he was warm, as if he'd only just stepped out of bed. He felt good, firm and lean, and her cool touch raised gooseflesh on his pale skin.

He looked at her searchingly for a long moment before he raised his hand to pull her in for a kiss. It started slow, but when she allowed her lips to part, he immediately took advantage of it, deepening the kiss and pulling her closer at the same time.

Megan could feel his rapidly hardening cock through his pyjama pants, and it was exciting to realize the effect she had on him. Not that she was unaffected either. Her nipples were tingling with want, and there was a familiar soft throbbing between her legs.

Daveth tugged at her shirt, just once, but she took the hint and quickly helped him pull it over her head. She spared a brief thought for the others, asleep in the living room. What if one of them woke up and found them here, half-naked and making out wildly on a kitchen chair? Megan shrugged internally. It wasn't likely, and even if… She had nothing to hide, and the thrill she was feeling right now was well worth risking a little embarrassment.

Especially when Daveth's lips found her breasts and he began to lick and suck eagerly, his eyes closed in bliss. Megan straddled him, pushing herself up on her knees to allow him better access, and he groaned, gripping her hips tightly. Then one of his hands wandered lower, between her thighs and upwards again, until he reached her panties and worked his fingers past them.

"Fuck, Megan. You're-" A shudder ran through his whole body. "You want it badly, don't you?"

She tried to reply, but her answer turned into a long whimper when he pushed two fingers deep inside her. But yes, he was right, she wanted more, she wanted all of him. Without hesitation, she pushed down his pants, wrapping her hand around him to give him a firm stroke. His cock was long and slim and so hard, Maker, _so hard_. Megan shivered in pleasant anticipation.

"Do you have a condom?" Her fingers danced over the sensitive tip, catching the liquid gathering there and spreading it gently.

Daveth moaned unrestrainedly, but he shook his head. "Sorry. I didn't… Maker, Megan, stop it! I didn't plan for this. Do you?"

Megan cursed under her breath. "In my bag, somewhere, but I can't dig around there without waking Morrigan. Shit." She kept stroking him, but she pulled back a little. "Well, then. I'm afraid anything else will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Oh, come on." Daveth almost whined. "Don't you think we can risk it? I swear I'm clean."

"Nope." Letting go of him, Megan shook her head decisively. "Absolutely not. Too risky, no matter what you say. Besides, I don't want to end up pregnant."

His grip on her hips tightened. "I'll be careful. Just, please-"

"No." Removing his hands, she stepped back until she was leaning against the table. It seemed wise to put some distance between them. "We really can't."

Daveth's hands clenched into fists. "Damn it, Megan. You can't do this to a guy. Do you have any idea how-" He inhaled sharply. "Honestly, you're killing me."

"Ah, no." Megan couldn't believe her ears. _We're_ so _not going there, honey_. "I don't think so. Let me see." Quickly, she snatched one of his hands between hers, making a show of examining it, then did the same with the other. "Two big, strong, healthy hands, if I'm not mistaken." She made a small, clucking noise with her tongue. "Even if I leave you like this…" Her eyes dropped to his straining erection. "I'm sure you will survive. Surely you know _exactly_ what to do about this."

He shot her another glare, but then a thought seemed to strike him and his expression turned into a slow, wicked smile. Taking hold of himself, he held her gaze, his voice dropping at least an octave. "I do. Would you like to watch?"

Megan held her breath. Unable to speak, she nodded quickly.

Daveth leaned back a little, to give her a better view as he tightened his grip on himself, running his hand smoothly up and down, with an occasional swipe of his thumb across the crown. Megan watched with captive fascination, unable to tear her eyes away as he increased tempo and pressure, panting hard, every muscle in his body tightening as he neared completion.

And then, just when she thought he was almost there - and it was hot to watch him, so hot that she had pressed her thighs hard together without even noticing - he stopped.

"You, too." His voice was rough and his breathing laboured. "Let me see."

Megan blushed deeply. "I don't think I can-"

"Oh, yes, you can." Daveth's stomach was rippling with the effort of holding back, but his tone was merciless. "I want to see you, too, or I'll stop right here. Spread your legs."

She moaned at his words, unbelievably turned on by his bossiness. "Daveth…"

"Now." His eyes were large and dark, almost feverish.

Megan had to close her eyes at first, as she let her knees fall apart. Slowly, tentatively, she let her hand trail over the damp cotton of her panties.

"Take them off." Daveth's hand was back on his cock, slowly stroking, but he was relentless.

She gave in, writhing out of her panties, pushing them down her legs, and allowing him a full view of what she was doing. When her fingers disappeared between her moist folds, Daveth made a low, strangled noise, and she opened her eyes again, because she had to see him, she needed to know exactly what he was doing.

He was still trying to keep it slow, but he was so worked up by now it looked almost painful, his cock flushed and weeping fluid, his whole body tense with need. The temptation to throw caution to the wind got almost overwhelming. Maker, she _wanted_ that cock, wanted to feel him thrust hard inside her, wanted to be full of him. Her own fingers were a poor substitute when Daveth was there, right in front of her, more than ready to give her what she wanted.

With a low whine, she arched her back, spreading herself obscenely wide, pushing her fingers as deep as she could. It was more than Daveth could bear. She heard his stifled groan and she _saw_ him come, saw him spurt all over his chest and stomach, creating the most glorious mess. Her vision went white for a moment, and she was nearly there, just a little more. Daveth didn't waste any time. With shocking swiftness, his hands were on her thighs, holding them apart. And then she felt his tongue on her core, between her fingers, lapping at her with such single-minded focus that it took only seconds for her to come, trembling and shuddering all over with the force of it.

"Holy Maker!" Daveth sounded almost awed as he drew back. He kept his left hand on her thigh, stroking her softly, while he grabbed a towel to clean himself up a little.

Megan made a small inarticulate sound and allowed him to pull her back into his lap. For a little while, he just held her, while they both regained their composure.

When Daveth finally took hold of her chin to tilt her head back, he looked almost amused. "Well, that was… something. You little demon."

Megan laughed shakily. "Yup. Not bad at all."

"No. But tomorrow..." He kissed her, quick and hard. "I want us to finish what we've started."

"Do you now?" The thought sent a pleasant frisson down her spine, but Megan needed to be clear about this. Without flinching, she met his eyes. "What about what I want?"

Daveth raised an eyebrow. "You were pretty eager yourself, weren't you? I thought-"

"We'll see." Megan slid off his lap with a long, luxurious yawn. "Bedtime now, I think." She turned in the doorway to wink back at him. "Tomorrow is another day."


	10. Chapter 10

Zevran raised his hand to ring the bell, but then he hesitated for a heartbeat. Everything still looked the same; nothing had changed since that day, six months ago, when he'd left, throwing his keys at Taliesin’s feet. The same faded linoleum covered the floors of the dingy staircase. Every scratch on the doorframe was familiar, every dent in the floor, and every smudge on the walls. Not so long ago, this had been home.

With a sigh, he pressed the button. Inside the apartment, he heard a door open at the far end of the hall – _the kitchen,_ his memory supplied – and then quick, decisive steps approaching the door. _It's him_.

“Zevran!” Yes, it was Taliesin. And he hadn't changed either.

The expression on his face vacillated between joy and surprise, with maybe a hint of anger? It was hard to tell. They had all learned to hide their feelings growing up. But Zevran knew him, knew every flicker of his eyes and every twitch of his expressive mouth. And just like that, the longing was back, and he wanted to kiss that mouth, wanted to devour it, even now, even after all-

“You're back.” Taliesin was smiling now, but it was a wary smile, and it didn't reach his eyes. “What are you waiting for? Come in.”

Zevran complied, but he didn't return the smile. “Where is Rinna?”

A shadow crossed the other man’s face. “Back in the clinic. She did it again, just before Satinalia. Tried to slit her wrists.” He laughed without a trace of humour. “Did a damn good job, too. She very nearly didn't make it this time.”

Zevran inhaled sharply. “Do you have her address?”

Taliesin nodded. “I do, but-“ Taking hold of Zevran, he pulled him into a loose embrace. “There's no rush. Stay with me for a while. We can talk, sort things out.” His face was so close it would have taken only a tiny motion on Zevran's part for their lips to meet. “Or if you don't want to talk…" His hand brushed lightly down Zevran's spine. "Come on, _amore_. You know you want to.”

Of course he did. Already his body was responding to Taliesin's proximity, to the deep, soft purr of his voice, and it took all his control to take a step back. “Her address,” he reminded his former lover through clenched teeth.

Taliesin turned away with a sigh. “As you wish. You know, maybe she'd get better if you came back to us. You were always the one who could talk some sense into her, when she was in one of her moods. Maybe-“

The white-hot surge of fury made him slam his fist into the wall before he even knew what he was doing. “Don't you dare! Don't you dare suggest we go back to-” Zevran broke off. He was breathing hard. “After all you've done to her.”

“We,” Taliesin corrected him with a wry smile, handing him a piece of paper. “We did it together. And don't forget it was your own decision. I didn't force you, did I?”

_No. It would have been far kinder if you had._ Zevran closed his eyes, swallowing down the bile collecting in his mouth. His hand was throbbing with pain, the knuckles scraped raw. Without another word, he turned and left the apartment.

* * *

Zevran felt like a complete failure as he made his way to the gate, through the large, neglected park that surrounded the hospital. He had picked a bad day to say goodbye to her. Rinna had been apathetic, her eyes clouded, her motions erratic. Zevran wasn't even sure she’d understood that he wasn't going to come back tomorrow. But it was no use. He had to leave if he wanted to remain sane.

For three weeks, he'd done his best to get through to her. He'd smiled and cajoled and cried and begged. When none of it had worked, he'd talked to all her doctors, he’d implored them to let him take her away. If only he could have her to himself for a while, take her to one of their old haunts, make love to her… He had to do _something_ to make her better, he couldn't just give up on her.

But Rinna's psychiatrist, a tall grey-haired woman with steely eyes, had been adamant. “No, Signor Arainai, I can't allow it. It wouldn't be fair, neither to her nor to you. She's a danger to herself in this condition, and I can't allow you to take on this kind of responsibility. The poor dear girl needs professional help, and we will take care of her.”

And maybe the doctor was right. With a shudder, Zevran recalled the look in Rinna’s eyes, a week ago, when he'd asked her why. Not for the first time, but this time she had answered, her voice small and tired. “How could I stand it, Zev? How could I celebrate Satinalia, knowing I'll never buy presents for her? Knowing that there'll never be anyone to buy presents for?”

He'd been lost for an answer. What could he possibly say? That she'd never cared about the holiday for as long as he'd known her? That there was no point in mourning what could have been? That she didn't even know if it had been a girl? All of it was true, yet pointing it out would have been cruel as well as useless. Nothing he could say would make her pain go away.

Shaking himself like a wet dog, he dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. It had started to rain, and the hospital grounds looked even more dismal than before. Time to go. There was nothing he could do.

* * *

Zevran arrived at the chalet shortly after noon. It was colder up here in the mountains than he'd expected, and the brisk walk uphill from the station had done him good. The place was nice-looking, if a little rustic for his taste, with lots of wooden panelling and carvings of deer and bears being chased by yapping dogs. _Very Fereldan_.

In the front yard, Alistair and Sten were busy chopping wood to add to an already impressive pile. Zevran took a moment to watch. Alistair had rolled up his shirtsleeves despite the cold, and the play of muscles in his arms was a pleasant sight indeed.

When they noticed him, Alistair put down his axe carefully, then approached him with a wide, welcoming smile. “Zevran! It's good to see you.” He indicated the woodpile with a tilt of his head. “We can always use some more help here.”

Sten didn't stop what he was doing, but he grunted a brief greeting in Zevran's general direction.

Zevran felt an unexpected warmth bloom inside his belly. It _was_ nice to be back with them. “Later, perhaps. Where are the ladies?”

“Morrigan’s gone shopping, and Megan is inside, cleaning up after lunch.” Alistair motioned toward the house. “There’s some leftover pasta, I think, in case you're hungry.”

Zevran smiled. Food would be nice, but if he was honest, there was another kind of hunger he needed to take care of first.

Megan was at the sink with her back to him, up to her elbows in suds. She didn't hear him coming, or maybe she thought it was one of the others. In any case, she didn't turn around, which gave him a chance to surprise her. Walking straight up to her, he embraced her tightly from behind, moulding his body against hers.

A slow smile spread across her face as she leaned back against him. “Zev. Maker, I've missed you.”

“Me, too,” he whispered in her ear, inhaling her scent.

She felt so good in his arms, warm and pliant, and suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. With a stifled noise, he spun her around in his arms, not caring that her hands soaked his shirt as they roamed over his chest. Because now he was kissing her, deeply and hungrily, and she was kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. He pulled her even closer, his hands already pushing up her sweater, because he needed to feel her skin, needed to touch every inch of her, right now.

“Please.” He hitched up one of her legs on his waist, grinding hard against her, moaning into her mouth. “Just… please, Megan.”

Megan didn't ask questions, didn't so much as raise an eyebrow at the urgency in his voice. She did push him back a little, though, without breaking the kiss. “My room,” she mouthed against his lips, pulling him with her.

Only moments later they were tumbling onto her bed together. Somehow their clothes came off, somehow he managed to put on the condom she tossed him, and then he was inside her, all the way inside her as fast as he dared, and it was so incredibly good!

Maker, he'd needed this! He'd missed it all so much: her lips gasping against his; her scent surrounding him; her warm body in his arms; the tingling rush of pleasure building inside him; the promise of a moment of sweet oblivion. He paused, now that he was where he needed to be, and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself.

"Zev?" Megan sounded worried. "Are you all right?"

A wet trickle ran down his cheeks, and he tasted salt. "Now I am."

He rolled his hips, slow and lazy, and Megan whined with pleasure. They settled into a rhythm with easy familiarity. _Yes_. As long as he was here with her, everything was fine, everything was under control. He knew he was good at making love, knew he could make her shudder with just a little tilt of his hips, knew how and where to touch her if his cock inside her wasn't enough.

Not that there was any need for that today. Megan seemed just as starved for it as he was. She was right there with him, moving in time with him, her whole body taut as a rope. Just a little more, just one more thrust… he felt himself unravel, but yes, she was coming along with him, pulsing around him, and it was perfect.

There was a hint of a frown on her face, though, when she huddled up to him afterwards, and he did his best to distract her. "Well, _carissima_? Did you sleep with Daveth while I was away?"

"Nope." To his surprise, she shook her head.

"Why not?" He'd noticed the way Daveth had looked at her, and he seemed to be her type. "You know I wouldn't mind."

"It's not that." Megan made a face. "We messed around a bit, and we almost did the deed, but it never worked out quite the way we'd planned. It's a long story. And anyway…" Rolling on her stomach, she fixed him with a determined glare. “What happened in Antiva, Zev? Why did you want to go back? And what has you so rattled?”

When he didn't reply, she nudged him gently with her head. “Come on. I didn't ask before, and I wouldn't badger you now, but you're a mess. You need to talk about it.”

“Why?” He sounded sharper than he'd intended.

Megan didn't reply, just kept looking at him, waiting with uncharacteristic patience until he gave in.

“Fine. But be warned. It's not a pleasant story.”

She shrugged, motioning for him to continue. With a sigh, he began to explain. He told her about Taliesin, as much as he dared, because some things he couldn't bring himself to mention. And about Rinna, though his voice choked on a sob, when he tried to describe what she'd been like, before all of this, so full of laughter and energy and mischief.

Megan listened quietly, though her eyes narrowed a little when he explained about their little _ménage à trois_. “We were doing fine. Of course we quarrelled, but that didn't matter. It was hot and exciting, and we had a really good time together.” Zevran swallowed. “Until the test came up positive, and we had to decide what to do.”

Rinna had wanted the baby. He'd seen it in her eyes as soon as the thin line had shown up, the hope, the joy, the anticipation. But Taliesin…

_“You're not serious, are you?” His voice was cold with contempt. “None of us is fit to care for a child. If you insist on this madness, don't expect any help from me. I'm not ruining my life over this.” Ignoring the pained look on Rinna's face, he turned away from her. “I can't speak for Zev, of course. Maybe he wants it. It's probably his anyway.”_

Zevran hadn't replied. Taliesin had been right, actually. Considering their usual preferences, it was probably him who'd messed up and gotten her pregnant. Not that it mattered.

For more than a week, they'd been in limbo, trying to find a way out. Taliesin had never budged, and he'd spent hours talking to Zevran behind Rinna’s back, painting a horrible future for him: the two of them, stressed and exhausted, all their energies taken up with caring for the baby, without money, without support, without even a roof over their head, since Taliesin was the one who paid the rent on the apartment. In the end, Zevran had been so worn out that he'd agreed it was for the best. Together they'd banded up on Rinna until she let them take her to a discreet doctor who wouldn't ask any questions. Antivan abortion laws were draconian, and they were running out of time.

Zevran would never forget the disappointment in Rinna's large dark eyes when she'd realized he'd betrayed her, too. From that point onwards, she'd resigned herself to whatever Taliesin had suggested.

Megan still hadn't said a word, and Zevran desperately wished he could stop now, but the hardest part of the story still needed to be told. “The doctor… If he even was a real doctor… He botched it. We had to take her to the ER afterwards, and she just barely survived. They said… They said she'd never be able to have children.”

Megan flinched in sympathy. “Ouch. How did she handle it?”

“Not well.” Zevran picked at a loose thread on the blanket. “She's tried to kill herself four times since that day. She's in a psychiatric ward right now, getting treated for severe depression.” Finally, he dared to meet Megan's eyes. “I ruined her life. She'll never be the same.”

Megan was silent, and for a moment he felt icy fear grab his heart. Would she kick him out, now that she knew? It would be understandable, certainly. He would never forgive himself for his callous, selfish behaviour.

But instead of pushing him away, Megan pulled him closer, holding him tight. “Oh, Zev.” She sighed, stroking his cheek softly. “What a mess.”

He nodded, gripping her so hard it had to hurt. For a long while, they kept still, just holding each other. And then she shifted in his arms, offering her lips for a kiss, and he gladly obliged, drinking her in, eager for her taste, eager to forget about it all. Megan made a small, soothing noise, and she let him, allowed him to take what he needed, without judging him, without questions or criticism. It was such a blessed relief.

“Now you understand, yes?” He was babbling, breathing the words against her cheek in a frantic rush. “Now you know why I-“

“Shhhhh. It's all good, Zev.” Her voice was warm. “We’re friends, remember?”

Yes. They were friends. Megan understood. She was travelling light herself, for reasons of her own. She had never asked for more.

“I'm sorry, _cara_.” He nearly choked on the words. “I wish I could give you more.”

“It's enough, Zev.” Pulling him down into another kiss, she shook her head. “It's more than enough.”


	11. Epilogue

_Five years later…_

Carver leaned back in his chair, taking a careful sip of his strong, scalding hot coffee. Megan and Nate were busy fixing breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast, and he smiled affectionately as he watched them bump against each other in Megan's tiny kitchen.

She had invited them to spend their Satinalia vacation with her in her two-room apartment in Denerim. There wasn't really enough space for three people, not even if they shared a bed and a shower and spent most of the time having wild, passionate sex. But it was clearly important for her to have them here, in her own space.

There was still so much they needed to sort out since the three of them had gotten back together in summer. Megan valued her independence, and she was a lot warier than she had been at seventeen. Just last night, he and Nate had made another attempt to persuade her to move in with them. Their apartment in Amaranthine was roomy enough, and in her line of work, it wouldn't be a problem if she lived elsewhere.

But Megan had been reluctant. "I like my place. I love the big city. And it's cosy with the two of you here. Besides..." She'd looked uncharacteristically serious. "If we live together, all three of us, that means we're making it official. Now, I don't really mind, but are the two of you sure you're ready to tell the world about us?"

Carver had just shrugged. His mother wouldn't approve, but then she'd never approved of his love life anyway.

Nate had actually laughed out loud. "No worries, Meg. I did the whole coming out to my family thing once, when things got serious with Carver. I can do it again. Should be easier the second time round."

Megan had laughed, too, but refused to take the discussion further.

Carver had just gotten to his feet and was trying to squeeze past Megan to get some plates from the cupboard when the doorbell rang.

Megan looked vaguely irritated as she washed her hands and dried them off on a tea towel. “Who… I'm not expecting any visitors.”

The bell rang again, more urgently this time, and then they heard the unmistakable sound of a key being inserted into the lock. Megan was at the door in a flash, tearing it open without so much as asking who it was.

“Meg! What are you doing?” Nate sounded worried, and Carver had to stifle a cry of surprise. _What_ -

Megan was squealing with delight, leaping straight into the arms of the unknown visitor, laughing and crying at the same time as she placed a resounding kiss on his lips. “Zevran! Maker, I've missed you.”

The stranger set her back on her feet with an indulgent chuckle, but he didn't let go of her entirely. His hands remained on her hips in a gesture that betrayed an unconscious familiarity, and the look he exchanged with Megan was… _Uh-oh._ Carver didn't know who the guy was, but it was obvious Megan knew him intimately.

Nate must have come to the same conclusion. “Who is this, Meg? And why does he have a key?” There was a dark frown on his face as he observed the scene, and he sounded grumpy.

_Good question._ Carver had a better view of the man now, and he just barely stopped himself from whistling through his teeth. Whoever he was, he was insanely attractive, with his exotic colouring and the striking tattoo. He had taken a small step backwards in the meantime, but he still hadn't let go of Megan entirely, grasping both her hands in a gesture full of warmth and affection.

“I'm sorry, _cara_.” He addressed himself entirely to Megan. “I would have called, but my phone died on the train journey. And I didn't expect you to have company.” His gaze quickly swept through the hallway, taking in Nate’s barely contained defensiveness without any visible reaction. When he noticed Carver through the open doorway, his eyebrows flew straight up, but he didn't comment. “As a matter of fact, I didn't expect you to be here at all. You usually spend the holiday with your parents, no?”

Megan nodded. She was still smiling. “Nate, Carver, this is Zevran. I met him during my gap year, and he's the best friend a girl could have.” She pulled Zevran into the hallway, shooting a quick glance back over her shoulder at Nate. “And he has a key because I’ve let him use my apartment in the past, when he was in town and I wasn't around.”

_And when you were around, he stayed here, too._ Carver didn't say it aloud, but it was obvious from the way Zevran acted around Megan. They had quite clearly been more than just friends. He swallowed down the rest of his coffee in one big, nervous gulp, glancing over at Nate, who didn't look happy. Not at all.

* * *

With the first rush of happy surprise gone, Megan began to realize that this was going to be complicated. The apartment had never seemed tinier than now, with the three most important men in her life crowded into it together. She wondered how Nate and Carver would handle this.

Zevran, of course, was wholly at ease, at least on the surface. She was pretty sure there was a hint of disappointment in his expression as he shook hands with Nate and Carver and gracefully accepted a mug of coffee from her. Megan could hardly blame him. The last time he'd showed up, they'd been halfway out of their clothes the moment the door had closed behind him. He'd fucked her right there, in the hallway, up against the wall, and it had been amazing. It had always been amazing with him.

She did her best not to let her nostalgia show on her face as they settled down in the living room. The couch only had room for three, and Megan chose to sit in the middle, with Zevran on her right. After a moment’s hesitation, Carver joined them. Nate ended up in the solitary armchair facing them. He looked stiff and uncomfortable.

Megan cast about for something to lighten the atmosphere, but it was hard to find a safe topic. “I'm afraid there's not enough room for you in here, Zev. But I can give Morrigan a ring and ask her if she can put you up in her spare room. I'm sure she'll be happy to help us out for old time’s sake.”

“I'm sure she will, _cara_.” Zevran seemed aware of her nervousness. Megan recognized the warm, soothing tone in his voice. “I'll be fine. As are you, it seems. Things are going well, yes?”

His gesture took in both Nate and Carver, and he made no effort to hide his suggestive wink. Nate’s face darkened even further.

_So he's going to make this difficult_. Megan knew Nate was prone to jealousy, but she'd hoped he'd realize how unfounded it was in this case. “Yes, Zev,” was all she said aloud. “Really well. We… We've been back together for quite a while now. I meant to tell you earlier, but-“

“Surely you're under no obligation to keep him informed about your love life.” Nate probably hadn't intended to sound quite so sulky, but even so, Megan could have slapped him.

Favouring him with her best icy stare, she ignored his comment and focussed on Zevran instead. They chatted for a little longer, catching up on what had happened since their last meeting. Carver was quiet and withdrawn, but at least he wasn't overtly hostile. Still, the mood was decidedly tense.

With a sigh, Megan eventually got to her feet. “Let me get my phone and call Morrigan.”

Her friend readily agreed to put up Zevran for the night. “Of course, Meg. But make sure he knows it's a _friendly_ visit.” Morrigan’s dry tone hadn't changed at all. “I expect him to be good and keep his hands to himself, or he can sleep on the balcony and freeze his pretty Antivan ass off.”

Megan hung up with a smile, but when she returned to the living room, Zevran was alone there. He was standing at the window, staring out into the busy street. Nate and Carver had disappeared; she thought she could hear them puttering about in the kitchen.

“I'd better leave, Megan.” Zevran pulled her into his arms for a chaste hug. He'd already put his jacket back on, and she closed her eyes as she huddled close to him, inhaling the scent of the leather.

The flood of memories was immediate, and so vivid she had to hold back a moan. “You don't have to-“

“Yes, I do.” Zevran pulled back with a knowing smile. “I know when I'm in the way, _cara_. And I'm truly glad you guys are giving it a second chance. You are good together, I believe.” He hadn't bothered to keep his voice down, but before he left, he leaned in to breathe a kiss on her cheek. “They're both gorgeous,” he whispered conspiratorially. "If the three of you ever get bored, you know where to find me."

“Zev!” She playfully punched his arm. “Be nice to Morrigan, you hear me?”

“But of course. You know I adore her. And one day she'll realize what she's been missing.” His cheeky grin was only too familiar. “I'll be in touch. Take care.”

The door fell shut behind him. Megan yawned and stretched, smiling to herself. _Oh, Zev_. _You're incorrigible._ Really, Nate had no reason whatsoever to be jealous. But then again how would he know that? It wasn't as if she'd been ready to commit to him and Carver so far. She'd been keeping them at arm's length, both literally and figuratively.

With a deep sigh, she turned to face her men. _Time to sort this out._

* * *

Nate was mad at himself. And at Megan, for allowing this situation to happen. "I'm sorry, Meg, I really am. I know I was out of line.” He did his best to sound contrite. “But surely you have to see... The way he acted around you, touched you, talked to you, making it so damn obvious that the two of you-"

He broke off, realizing he was making things worse. "It's not easy, that's all. I can't help imagining you with him, back then."

Megan shrugged. She had been very clear about what she thought of his attitude. "I don't mind if you do, you know. But, I do mind you getting yourself in such a state over it. Tell me..." Her voice turned sharper. "Back when I first slept with Zev, after the three of us broke up... What were _you_ doing then?"

Carver inhaled sharply at her words, but kept silent, clearly unwilling to get involved. He'd never been overly fond of discussing his emotions or the details of their relationship.

Nate cleared his throat. "I... Well, you remember Anders?"

"Of course I do." Megan snorted impatiently. "What about him?"

"A few weeks after our graduation, I found him outside my apartment one night." Nate swallowed. "He... He was in bad shape, had been living on the street for a while. He hadn't eaten properly for quite some time, I think."

_And that's putting it mildly_. Anders had been half starved and feverish, unwashed and sick. Nate almost hadn't recognized him at first.

"On the street! But why?" Megan seemed utterly bewildered. "His parents-"

"They kicked him out, Meg, when he told them he was gay." Nate felt his eyes sting at the memory. "They belong to this obscure, hyper-Andrastian sect from the Anderfels, and they refused to even talk to him unless he-" Again, he had to swallow. "I had to help him, Meg!”

"Of course you did." Megan reached out to take his hand, squeezing it gently. "So you took him in and you ended up in bed together?"

"Not straight away, no." Nate took a deep breath, pleased to find he sounded steadier now. "I had to clean him up first, and then help him recover, you know, put on some weight again and all that. But yeah, eventually..."

He hadn't meant to. The whole thing hadn't felt right at first, with Anders so broken and so dependent on him. But Anders had been so eager, so needy, had practically inserted himself into Nate's bed, his life, his heart, without accepting no for an answer.

So, in the end, he had given in to Anders’ advances, and it had been good. Good enough for them to try it again, and again, and then even go all the way. Nate had been curious, of course. He and Carver had done quite a bit of exploring together, but they had always stopped shy of actual penetration. Whereas Anders...

_"Please, Nate." Anders was writhing on the sheets, his legs spread in a manner that was positively indecent. "I know you want to."_

_"Damn it, Anders." Nate was rapidly reaching the limit of his self-control. "I... I have no idea how to do this, and I don't want to hurt you."_

_"I trust you. How hard can it be?" Anders was breathless and flushed, moaning when Nate touched him. "Just... Please, Nate.”_

_And then he'd been inside Anders’ hot, tight body, and it had been incredibly sweet and intense, and the look on Anders’ face as he’d pushed deeper-_

He was torn out of his memories by Megan's crisp, clear voice.

"Well, Nate? Done enough reminiscing?" Her grip on his hand tightened. "Now, do you think that watching your face, seeing the way you smiled when you took that little walk down memory lane, was _easy_ for me? Or for Carver?"

"Meg, please, I-" Carver's discomfort was almost tangible, and he was clearly trying to defuse the situation.

But Megan wouldn't have it. "It's difficult for everyone, Nate! We've all had other lovers, other people we care about. Zevran will always have a special place in my heart. He was there for me at a time when I badly needed company, and I won't forget that." Her face softened. "But I love you. You and Carver. And I'm with you two, not with him, okay?"

It wasn't easy. He couldn't just brush aside his jealousy at a moment's notice. But in his heart, Nate knew Megan was right, knew she was telling the truth. He made himself nod. “Okay.”

“Come here.” Megan pulled him into a tight embrace, extending a hand towards Carver to make him join in as well. "I love you both so much."

For a long moment, they just held each other, and Nate had to close his eyes, almost overcome by the intensity of his feelings. To have them both in his arms, so warm, so close, so perfect - it was all he'd ever wanted. Now if only Megan-

“Come on, guys. We still have some decorating to do for Satinalia. And afterwards…” Megan took a deep, shaky breath, but when she met his gaze, her eyes were clear, nothing held back. “I think we should start discussing my move to Amaranthine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Gigantic hugs and thanks to my wonderful and amazing beta suilven!


End file.
